Memories of Zephon
by Demon Hunter Anamae
Summary: ~Complete~ Zephon reflects on his unlife and love lost in his Cathedral
1. Chapter One

Zephon waited, suspended in the secret chamber of his Cathedral, for Raziel to come. He held every belief that he would triumph; since his last evolution, Zephon felt himself become stronger, sharper, faster. The insect body he inhabited suited him and need no one tell him of that. Even his children had changed, becoming more that what they had been, casting off the weakness of their old bodies and taking on the forms of insects as well. Zephon could see everything that happened in Nosgoth inside his chamber; his webs spun across vast distances and nothing remained unknown to him, not even the lives of the humans in their Citadel. He plotted and weaved and spun; he paraded endless ideas in his mind on just how to conquer all of Nosgoth, to thrown down Kain and take his place.   
  
With his new body, he could do anything. Not even precious Raziel, the reject from the Abyss, could stop him.  
  
But as Zephon waited, wrapped in his own arrogance, he constantly drifted in and out of his memories. In the low moments of his life, he wondered if they were all he ever had left. Zephon viewed certain bits of his memory, wondering how he could have done anything differently, folding and refolding them over and over again. Sometimes, if this body had allowed it, Zephon would have silently wept. He only reached such a low when he thought over his most private memories; ones that he had tucked away in the far corners of his mind and rarely thought about, but when he did…  
  
Life could be so strange, he silently mused. Zephon always tried to live without regrets; they cluttered up a person's life, made him carry a weight around that he could ill afford in this day and age. Those memories, when they arose, carried such regrets that he felt as if he was in a sea that threatened to drown him, and Zephon himself had thrown the rope in the other direction when it had been cast out to help him. Zephon tried to shake them away, but the memories poured through his mind, demanding to be remembered, screaming to be heard. The changed vampire moaned in his semi-sleep but could do nothing but remember.  
  
It had been a long time ago, but it always seemed like just yesterday.   
  
Regrets.  
  
Zephon regretted not telling her when he should of.  
  
Zephon regretted not being nicer to her as he should of.  
  
Zephon regretted ever setting that plan into motion that drove the stake through his heart in the end, making it become even more cold and black then it was before.  
  
His regrets…his memories…they swirled together and he was forced to watch once again…. 


	2. Chapter Two

"So the meeting is adjourned, " Kain spoke. He stood from his throne, the Soul Reaver held in his hands, and left the room. His Lieutenants filed out after him with, Zephon noted, Raziel walking beside his father. Dumah and Turel were deep in conversation over something that the third-born was obviously upset about and as Zephon looked behind him, Rahab and Melchiah were talking as well. So many conversations that he was not invited to participate in, but as always that did not matter to him. Zephon always found out what was happening with the other Clans, even within the Sanctuary itself.  
  
He slowed down so he could walk in step beside Rahab and Melchiah, the weakling that he was. "May I join in," Zephon gave a benign smile. Melchiah flinched slightly at the sound of his older brother's voice, but Rahab nodded to Zephon.  
  
"Very well. We are all equals here, Zephon." The three walked down the long halls of the Sanctuary, passing by fledglings that bowed respectfully to the Chosen of Kain and moved out of their way. "We were just discussing the latest raid against the humans to the south of the Citadel. Melchiah managed to reap a good portion, taking over about…how many humans did you manage to capture?"  
  
"Over fifty; 30 males and 20 females. They have already been-"  
  
"It doesn't matter how many you captured unless they are of good stock to be bred. And judging from you, Melchiah, I find it dubious that any are of good breeding," Zephon quipped. Melchiah's eyes, a few moments before shining with pride, dropped to the ground and he fell silent.   
  
"I believe that I am in charge of the breeding, Zephon, and it would be wise for you to keep your views to yourself. Unless," Rahab gave him a cold look, "you would like to take this up with father and you feel you are better suited for the my work."  
  
Zephon stopped and fixed his Clan flag while giving both of his younger brothers the most arrogant look possible. "Of course not. I am just concerned of the quality of the humans; they after all are food for us and it would do no good for any of the Clans should they have weak stock in their ranks. Our high blood must be maintained at all costs."  
  
Rahab folded his arms and stood in front of Melchiah protectively, or at least Zephon thought. "Then I suggest, dear brother, that you leave my work to me and Melchiah's to him. You are in charge of surveillance over the humans and from the fledglings we have been losing, I would think that you were slipping." Zephon silently bristled at the insult made towards him, but all he did was narrow his eyes and give a condescending smile.  
  
"And where did you hear such things, brother Rahab?"  
  
"Like you, I have my own sources, Zephon. I bid good day to you." Rahab nodded his head, turned and then left. Melchiah followed without even looking at Zephon. The Clan lord hissed between his clenched teeth and grinded a fist in his palm. How dare Rahab do that to him? Thankfully there had been no one else nearby to see that embarrassment, but still it ate at Zephon. His spying network, failing in their task giving to them personally by Lord Kain? Zephon would look into the supposed problem and receive answers.  
  
Footsteps behind Zephon made him turn and a fledgling nearly bowled over the Lieutenant.  
  
"Watch where you are running, you insignificant idiot! Give me one very good reason why I should not slit your throat where you stand right now!"   
  
Zephon's hand closed over the hilt of the dagger he carried with him and drew it in rage at the fledgling that was from the Melchahim Clan shook slightly as he bowed to the Lieutenant standing in front of him. Even if the young vampire was from another Clan, Zephon had every right to destroy the thing.  
  
"Milord, I was sent to escort you to the Great Lord Kain. He demanded that you come immediately to the dungeons." Sheathing his dagger, Zephon made his face impassive as he followed the young vampire through the halls of the Sanctuary, still angry at the fledgling. Soon that anger was forgotten as the tactician's mind began to work, why had Kain summoned him? What had he done now that was so important to the Lord? Perhaps Rahab or that sniveling Melchiah had run to Kain and told him of the recent conversation; Zephon would not of put it past them. Oh, how they would pay if they had done anything like that.  
  
Zephon finally descended into the dungeons and the Melchahim vampire led him to a part of the cells that had barely ever seen captives. The screams and the moaning of human prisoners felt like music to the Clan lord's ears; how Zephon reveled in pain. After taking one last corner, the fledgling left him and fled back up to the higher levels of the Sanctuary. Weakling, Zephon sneered at the retreating vampire. At the end of the stone hall, looking into one cell stood Kain. The Master beckoned for his son to come closer and with a smile on his face, Zephon came.  
  
"You called for me, father?"  
  
"Yes. Zephon, your Clan has shown such unswerving loyalty to me over the decades and centuries. I am pleased by it, as I should be." The son smiled, filled with pride that he was finally being noticed over Raziel. "And such loyalty does not go unrewarded. I have arranged a gift for you, Zephon."  
  
This is it; this is finally it, Zephon thought. I will either receive more land, which I am of course entitled to, or I will have more vampires made for my Clan. "Father, I am honoured."  
  
Kain smiled and extended a talon towards the cell. "Good. Your gift is inside. I knew you would be pleased by it as I chose it myself. I will see you later, Zephon." Kain vanished in thin air, the magic he had learned being so great that he could do that. Zephon suppressed an excited giggle, rubbed his hands together and moved closer to the cell to see inside.   
  
What he did see made his step back in shock that soon turned to overwhelming anger. 


	3. Chapter Three

Inside the cell and huddled to one corner in the far back, was a young woman. Her head was bowed and she wore a red dressed with lace about the edges and a ragged black shawl that gave her little warmth in the cold cell. Zephon hissed his displeasure. Surely this was all a joke, wasn't it? Kain would not do this to him but obviously he had. Already Zephon was considering tracking his father down and demanding if this was all a cruel joke, then stopped.  
  
A gift was a gift and once given, especially by Kain himself, you could never return it. Zephon might as well walked up to the master and punched him full in the face with every other vampire in Nosgoth watching. After much thought, the Clan lord finally opened up the cell door and marched in. The woman, she looked no older than her early twenties, did not look up.   
  
"Get up," was all Zephon said. His voice was dangerously low, his patience thinned down to nothing. The woman's head finally snapped up and she looked at the vampire with large eyes. Growling in anger Zephon seized the woman by her wrist and yanked her to her feet. "When I give an order human, I expect to be obeyed."   
  
She nodded quickly, her other hand holding onto the shawl, knuckles white. Zephon dragged the woman out of the cell behind him and moved down the halls quickly. He did not want to be seen like this, carting some human around behind him.   
  
Questions would be raised that he would not want to answer.  
  
Taking the back halls and other passages that the younger vampires knew nothing about, Zephon made his way back to his own Clan Territories, to his beautiful Cathedral. Finally arriving at his innermost sanctums with only three of his vampires seeing him with the strange visitor, he tossed the woman in front of him and dropped into his ornate throne. It was made of the bones of the fallen, humans he had killed, and laced together by unseen magic. A skull gaped open near the top of the throne, jaw opened in a silent scream. It was a grotesque thing, but it suited Zephon's taste. The woman knelt on the ground, her head bowed and trying hard and bravely to not cry.  
  
The room was small, circular with a domed ceiling; an ornate chandelier hung from a chain in the rising and seemingly infinite darkness. Frescoes of death had been painted along the walls, vampires' horrible mutilating humans and blood sacrifices. A desk carved of dark oak was placed in a small alcove with plans and maps scattered over the surface; a shelf lined with book occupied the opposite alcove. A room that reflected the images in Zephon's mind, a chamber that even Kain possible did not know about but the higher-ranking vampires of Zephon's did know of.  
  
At the moment Zephon sat and looked at the woman in front of him, trying to come to terms, to make some sense from this 'gift'. Mockery that is what it was. A mockery from Kain to Zephon, showing him that throughout his years of loyal service, of planning and making the Sanctuary, for building the war machines that had destroyed the humans and their cities, he was only worthy to receive a sniveling, pitiful wench. Zephon was about to speak when a knock resounded on the door and opened.  
  
Natarek, Zephon's second-in-command, bowed before stepping across the threshold, and was only there quickly to give his Lord and father a letter. Without even looking at the woman, the Zephoniem vampire turned and left. Kain's seal was stamped on the letter and Zephon tore it open with a slight hope that perhaps everything had been a mistake, and he could be ride of this 'gift' in no time. The letter read:  
  
  
Zephon, the woman you have received is a sorceress of the humans, a powerful one and also a high-ranking lady in their caste system. I have left her in your care, but you in turn must follow these instructions. She is to become your consort and to wear your Clan banner equally for you have no say in the matter, and her powers can be of great service to you should the need arise that your Clan should march to war.  
  
Kain, Lord and Emperor of Nosgoth  
  
  
Sitting back in his throne, the harsh words that we about to spill from his lips, Zephon was for once in his life speechless. How could such a thing of happened? He seemed to be asking that question a lot lately and still received no answers of any kind. His yellow eyes flicked from the letter to the woman, the sorceress, then back again to the letter to make sure what he was reading was not a trick of the mind.   
  
No such luck. Kain's words, Kain's orders, could not be defied unless you wished to have a quick death. To Zephon, visions of him being thrown into the Lake of the Dead filled his mind's eye until he forced himself to stop and think rationally. There must be some reason to all of this, other than the one in the letter.   
  
For the moment, just the moment Zephon reasoned, he would humour Kain, at least until he could question in the most delicate of ways his father's intentions. Getting up from his throne, Zephon tossed the letter onto the table and turned away from the woman in disgust. When Zephon finally spoke, his voice was harsh, like the sound of a whip.  
  
"What is your name, human?"  
  
"Zarina, my Lord. Zarina Larconquelle."  
  
Oh, wonderful, Zephon thought. They'll be chanting both her name and mine together like a rhyme. I detest all of this already. "Do you know what your immediate future holds, wench?"  
  
"No," Zarina answered softly. Zephon gave her a look from the corners of his eyes and she added quickly, "my Lord."  
  
"By orders of Lord Kain himself, you are to become my consort and wear my Clan banner. Does that surprise you at all?" He quickly whirled about to see the expression on Zarina's face. She still had not raised her face to look at him and stalking across the room, Zephon placed his clawed hand underneath her chin and tilted her head back to look at the sorceress.  
  
He supposed by human terms she was beautiful. Her pale skin was unblemished save for a small cut on her right cheek that would heal in time; her eyes were a deep blue and if the situation had not given her so much fear, they would of appeared gentle and filled with compassion. Her hair was a deep brown and slightly wavy, drawn over one shoulder in a loose tail that fell to her waist. Zephon backed away and looked at Zarina; her eyes followed the Clan lord's every move now. By human terms, Zephon thought to himself, she was beautiful.   
  
But he was not human.  
  
"Come with me," he spoke. For once Zarina rose quickly, eyes downcast and hands folded in front of her as her new lord led her from the fearful chamber and down winding halls filled with pipes and contraptions of strange designs in the Cathedral. Zephon did not care if the vampires or servants looked at him now; he was trapped and in under a day the five other Clans would know of his embarrassment. How his brothers would laugh at him now. Above all the work and other details he had to attend to, Zephon also had to look after a human sorceress that might help him in battle, which also might decide to kill him in his sleep.  
  
They finally arrived at the higher levels where there were rooms that Zephon hardly ever used. This part of the Cathedral would become his consort's chambers, but more importantly they were far away from his. Zephon already decided on having as little contact as it was possible with this wench and with an almost dramatic fling of his arm, opened up the door. The room followed the patterns of other living quarters; circular with a domed ceiling and three stone arched doorways that led into the other rooms. The place was bare, unadorned with a thin layer of dust on the floor. Zarina walked ahead of Zephon, shawl still pulled tightly around her shoulders as she entered the doorway to the left and came into the bedchamber.   
  
A canopied bed with old sheets sat under a pane of dark stainglass with a small fireplace nearby; a desk sat next to an empty wardrobe with a few inches of dust piled on top. Zarina knelt down and with a flick of her hand a flame appeared as she placed the magic in the fireplace. Now Zephon understood the meaning of her being a sorceress.   
  
"I will send up servants later to refurbish the chambers," Zephon said as he cleared his throat. He may not like Kain's idea of a consort, but the letter instructed that he was to take care of her or silent repercussions would follow. "And a tailor as well, as I guess that is your only article of clothing that you own."  
  
"My humble thanks, milord," Zarina curtsied to him. Without a word in return, Zephon left the chambers, slamming the door with enough force to shake the chamber behind him. As he stalked back down the halls to other business, he wanted to pound his fists into the walls and yell in fury. How could this of happened to me? He silently raged at the dark sky above him. How?  
  
There was no answer in return. 


	4. Chapter Four

"Here he comes. You can ask him yourself," Rahab nudged Turel on the shoulder as they both saw the ever-arrogant Zephon walk down the dark halls towards the assembly pits where he was responsible on the construction of the Sanctuary of the Clans.  
  
"Sure he won't bite my head off?" Turel snickered.  
  
"Better that we find out from him than hearing it from the many servants and fledglings. You know as well as I do that gossip has the ability to change rapidly. What is a fish in the river soon turns into a dragon breathing fire." Both Rahab and Turel stepped out from the shadows behind the pillars and in front of Zephon. He was a head shorter than Turel and came face to face with Rahab, but with the look that he had in his eyes, Zephon appeared even higher than Turel. Both brothers wore wide grins and immediately Zephon put himself on the defensive.  
  
"Move out of my way Turel, Rahab. I have work to attend to."  
  
"But we need to ask you some questions," Turel bite off a stifled laugh in his throat. Zephon's eyes narrowed at Rahab placed a talon on his shoulder. "We really need to know Zephon about a certain 'gift' that Lord Kain bequeathed unto you."  
  
Zephon slapped Rahab's hand away and tried to move past the two, but they simply moved as well and blocked him again. Zephon tried once more but Turel placed a restraining hand on his younger sibling. "No, no, no. You really don't like it when we ask the questions, do you? I need to know," Turel glanced at taciturn Rahab, who was coughing behind his cape and hiding a smile. "I need to know about this present that father gave to you. Is it really a human woman?"  
  
"We are after all, your brothers, Zephon. You can tell us anything," Rahab said encouragingly. Zephon gritted his teeth and cast his eyes at the marble floor. When he raised them again, both brothers stepped back with the look given to them.  
  
"If you must know this silly little piece of information that means the world to you, then yes. All right, are you happy? I have a human woman who is my consort, forced upon me by father as a gift! Are you pleased to learn about this embarrassment to me? Are you going to run off and tell Raziel or Melchiah since they doubtfully do not know about this?" Rahab and Turel exchanged quick glances with each other. Now they hadn't known anything about a consort. Zephon was fuming; his face had turned a bright red and a glint came into his eye.  
  
Turel raised his hands as he approached his brother. "I am sorry, I didn't mean to get you angry. If you need anything, anyone to talk to-" Zephon punched Turel's hands out of the way and looked at Rahab.  
  
"What I need is for both of you to get out of my way. I, unlike you two, have work to get done and I cannot spend all talk chatting about nothing of importance. Excuse me." Tilting his head, Zephon made his face expressionless and brushed past the two obnoxious Clan lords. Turel looked at Rahab and Rahab looked at Turel.  
  
"When you get that look in your eye, it means that you cannot wait to tell someone. Usually that would be Raziel or Dumah," Rahab spoke calmly.  
  
Turel nodded and pointed a thumb behind him. "I never thought Zephon would have a consort. So here is the plan, brother Rahab. You will go and tell Melchiah and I will dispense the news to Raziel and Dumah. It is only fair that we make them aware of Zephon's plight."  
  
Rahab gave a small grin. "Sometimes I believe you are pure evil."  
  
"Who, me? Never." Turel gave an innocent look before he went off in the direction of Dumah's Clan holdings.  
  
  
** *  
  
  
Zephon's temper was very short by midnight. He was snapping at every one of the servants as they constructed another part of the newly built Sanctuary, finding fault in every little thing and ordering the human slaves to tear parts of the stone down so it could be built again. The Sanctuary of the Clans had almost been completed; it was to be the monument for Kain's empire, a place where the Master could rule in triumph over the humans. But as Zephon was looking over his own drawn schematics he began to cross off parts that he felt served no purpose when they truly did, ordered the western wall to be collapsed and rebuilt once again without the windows, and the furnaces, huge machines developed by him as well, to be moved once again even after it had taken a whole week for the slaves to put them in the exact place.  
  
No one went near the angry Clan lord for they had seen first-hand what happened to people when they crossed Zephon. As Zephon screamed down at one of his foremen over some trivial matter, that was when Raziel appeared. The eldest stood quietly off to one side in the tent where the plans for the Sanctuary were made, arms crossed, and waited for Zephon to come storming in.  
  
"You need to sit down," Raziel said quietly as his younger brother pushed aside the tent flap. Zephon looked at Raziel for a few moments, nostrils flaring, but sat down in one of the chairs with a crossed expression upon his face. "I have come, Zephon, because people are beginning to talk about a 'gift'. The talking started out quietly, but now it has become a buzz and I would like to know the truth behind the whole matter."  
  
"It is an embarrassment, the gift that Kain gave me. If you tell him that when you meet him again, then I do not care for I am beyond all caring."   
  
Raziel pulled a chair up beside Zephon and rested his head in his hands. "Tell me, then, about this embarrassment done to you."  
  
Zephon coughed dryly and glanced at the ground before looking up at the first-born of Kain's Lieutenants. Raziel knew that this 'gift' had to be bad since his sharp-tongued brother did not want to look at him in the eye. "Yesterday, Kain summoned me and imparted a gift to me. I thought at first it would be humans to turn into new vampires for my Clan since we desperately need replacements, but that was far from it. Instead of receiving humans, I received a young woman instead. She is a sorceress from the human Citadel and I thought it might have been some poorly made joke. Either way I took her back to my Clan Territories and decided on what to do with her when the Master sent me a message. This human woman was to become my consort and wear my Clan flag, to stand equal beside me." Zephon was quiet for a few moments, staring daggers at the ground.  
  
"So?" Raziel pressed, sitting back in the chair.  
  
"I had no choice but to keep her, the stupid wench. I want to have nothing to do with her; she is an embarrassment to my Clan and I. A human, standing by my side as equal? What is Kain planning, I ask you that Raziel? Why has he done this to me? I have no need for such a thing and yet Kain has placed this burden on my lap. It is as if he has made some silent joke on me that I cannot understand."  
  
The anger, the damaged pride and honour showed in Zephon's eyes and for a few moments silence hung in the air like a heavy curtain.   
  
"Do you even remember her name?" Raziel said quietly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Do you at least now her name, Zephon?"  
  
"It is Zarina."  
  
"Zarina and Zephon. I can see why-"  
  
"Do not play games with me, Raziel, for I am in no mood today. I have told you everything, so I hope this little buzz of yours has been solved."  
  
"It has, but now this discussion has raised a few questions. Why does this nag at the back of your mind so much, other than the fact that she is human?"  
  
Zephon pounded his fist into his opened palm and shook his head. "She is not even a vampire; she has no reason at all being in my Cathedral or in my Clan. But what gets me is that Kain has given me no real solid reason why he gave Zarina to me. A sorceress to help me in battle that is what the letter read. If you ask, she would of done better in Turel's Clan. I…do not need someone prying into my affairs, helping me where I do not need the help."  
  
"And you are just being a brat." The audacity of Raziel's statement made Zephon glare at him, anger palpable in the air. "Think of it for a moment, if you will. We are still at war with the humans, the Sarafan and what is left of them. A sorceress could help greatly; like you said yourself you need fledglings. But until you do, what better protection can your Clan benefit from than a powerful sorceress? Perhaps this is one reason why Kain gave you this lady Zarina. You can let her go over the Clan records and events that you do not have time for; just teach her the ropes and I am sure she will catch on quickly. Your word is law in your Territories. No one is asking you to love her or even bed her, Zephon. Besides," Raziel leaned closer to his brother, "Turel is insanely jealous of you. He questions why you and not he have a consort. As well all know he is quite the charmer with the women."  
  
A smile crept over Zephon's face and he gave a chuckle. After talking it over with Raziel, a brother Zephon was jealous of, it made him feel slightly better. "I will have to face her sooner or later. Maybe it might not be all that bad if one were to meditate on it long enough."  
  
"Right, and the worst thing that could happen is that she's an assassin sent by the humans to horribly, horribly kill you." Zephon looked at Raziel with narrowed eyes. "I am joking, brother Zephon. Father would do no such thing to you and I wish you no ill, even if sometimes we do not always agree on everything said and done."  
  
"Hopefully." Raziel patted Zephon's shoulder comfortingly.  
  
"And once you do know the lady intimately, I would like to come over and make her acquaintance. But be careful about Turel for he might just come and sweep her off her feet," Raziel said jokingly. Zephon gave a thin smile, and then went back out to continue the construction of the Sanctuary with a lighter heart. Doubt still plagued his mind, but Zephon was able to push it out of the way.  
  
For the moment. 


	5. Chapter Five

Zephon sat down in the small room, arms resting on the table in front of him as he looked out the window beside him. Below him, his Clan's Territories extended into the night with the stars illuminating the canyons and fields. The river that ran around and under his Cathedral looked like a pale ribbon of silk with the moon's light; on both banks he could see his children practice their swordplay or archery. The table in front of Zephon had two candles burning softly in their silver stands and the chair opposite of him was vacant at the moment; a covered dish holding Zarina's food waited for her. The Lieutenant had followed his own advice and Raziel's; he would meet with Zarina and find out more about her, teach her the ropes for lack of a better word of the Cathedral.   
  
"Sometimes," he muttered to himself, "I believe I am the biggest paradox of all Nosgoth." He chuckled quietly to himself and pulled the sleeves of his white shirt down and brushed his hair back. Zephon could see his reflection in the window; narrowed eyes that always showed distrust, his thin lips in a slight frown, skin pale and a slight gray. He would feed after this meeting, Zephon reminded himself. The door to the chamber opened and the Clan lord turned his head to see his consort standing there.   
  
Zarina walked into the room, her hands clasped in front of her and head bowed slightly. She wore a modest dress of crushed velvet, dyed a deep green, with a white shawl wrapped about her shoulders with Zephon's symbol stitched onto the back. Seeing that made him angry for just a moment, but it passed and he did not let the emotion show on his face. Zarina's face did not hold their fear that is had when she had first come to the Cathedral; now the expression was more one of silent defeat but willing to accept it. The sorceress' hair had been brushed back and placed into a braid that trailed down to her waist and hung with small ornaments. She sat down gracefully, Zephon's yellow eyes following her every move.  
  
"Your supper, consort. So, how does the night fare for you," Zephon's voice was cordial, composed.   
  
Zarina's blue eyes looked up from her meal at Zephon. "I am trying to get into the pattern of life around here, my lord. It is difficult, but not impossible. The night is still young but it is beautiful outside." Her voice was calm, quiet and almost devoid of emotion.  
  
He looked out the window as she ate, caught up in a little drama between two fledglings that were 'helping' their friend from falling into the river. As the 'friends' grabbed the young vampire's hands, they let go of him and at the last moment caught the hapless vampire before he fell in. Zephon gave a small smile and turned back to Zarina. "Are your rooms satisfactory or do you require someplace else?"  
  
"No, my lord. They are excellent. And thank you for the tailor and clothing."  
  
"You are my consort; I cannot have you dressing in rags," Zephon replied icily. A silence stretched out for an eternity until he spoke again, his voice sharp. "If you are finished eating, then come with me." The vampire lord rose from his chair and walked over to the door. Zarina hurried after him, wrapping her shawl tightly about her shoulders as they stepped out into the hall. "I will give you a tour of my palace. Walk quickly, or you will be left behind and lost, then you will have to find your own way back to your rooms."  
  
"Yes." The halls were lit by torches and filled the air with warmth. Not that it truly mattered to the vampires as they were dead, but it made a difference to the human servants and slaves kept about. Zephon silently sneered as he saw Zarina rub her hands together against the cold that seeped in through the walls.  
  
When she spoke, her voice was so quiet that even Zephon barely heard it. "This Cathedral is massive, like a titan. I once heard that it belonged to the Sarafan until they were defeated, but I never imagined it to be this big. Some of the architecture does not look human; did your kind add onto this building after you took it from the former owners, my lord?"  
  
Zephon looked at her coldly, but the Cathedral was his pride and joy, so when he spoke there was a note of arrogance in the air. "Of course we have added to this place. The Sarafan thought that with this fortress, they would be unstoppable in their campaign to crush us vampires; it became their tomb. Over the centuries I have made fitting adjustments to the Cathedral. The first thing I wish to show you is this." Zephon waved a claw about as the two stepped into one of the main chambers of the Cathedral. Running up from the ground and rising into the darkness were massive pipes, their metal a dull green.  
  
"And these pipes, what purpose did they serve?" Zarina pressed a hand to the cold metal and looked at the maze of pipes.  
  
"From an organ deep within the Cathedral, the Sarafan use to play their music, and the pipes would amplify the deadly sound, for if there were any vampires nearby they would be struck senseless by the notes and made easy prey for the hunting parties."  
  
Zarina gave a small smile and looked at Zephon. "Then there must have been a very bad player at the keys. Do you get the joke, vampires and bad music?"  
  
Zephon gave her an icy look and said in a cold voice, "I do not see any wit in the joke. If you had been here to see the situation and on the side of the vampires, then you would not jest about such things. Now onto the next part of the palace." The Clan lord moved quickly down a flight of curving steps, silently wishing that Zarina would fall behind and become lost, but there was no such luck. He took her to see the great libraries where knowledge from the old Age of Nosgoth could still be found, introduced her to any of his vampires that approached their leader and curious about his consort, then took Zarina to the highest part of the Cathedral to view the Gardens of the Dead. She did not try to make any more jokes, but asked questions after questions that made Zephon think that shoving her off the Cathedral would be a quick and easy solution. Of course he did not act upon it, but Zephon thought about it.  
  
"Shall we return now? You look tired," Zephon secretly sighed as he saw a large yawn escape Zarina's lips. He would not have to put up with her for much longer.  
  
"Yes, my lord, I believe I should."  
  
"So how do you like your new home?" The quick emotion that crossed the sorceress' face gave Zephon all the answer that he needed. She hated it here, but would of course lie. But Zarina did not speak at all but wrapped her shawl tightly around her shoulders as she gave one last look at the land surrounding the Cathedral. As Zephon led the way down from the spire that overlooked the garden, footfalls coming from down the hall and fast made him stop, Zarina bumped into the Lieutenant as Zephon nearly fell off the last few stairs. Out of the darkness came Natarek, robes disheveled and dried with blood, his face filled with panic and relief as he spotted his lord. Zephon knew something was instantly wrong, for his own lieutenant never raced down halls or had so much of an expression on his face at one time. Stopping, the vampire bowed to Zarina, then looked at Zephon.  
  
"You-you must come at once, my lord," he gasped as he delivered the message. "It is of utmost importance."  
  
"What is the meaning of this," the Clan lord spoke as he gazed over his lieutenant. Seeing the anxiety in his eyes, Zephon nodded. "Very well. Zarina, I am sure that you can find your own way back to your chambers," Zephon spared a glance in her direction.  
  
"My lord, let me come as well. It is my duty as a consort." Zephon had no time for arguing with the way that Natarek was pulling on his arm.  
  
"Then come along, but remain quiet." The two walked quickly behind Natarek, who would not speak of what had happened but saying that they had to see it themselves to understand the full gravity of what was happening. 


	6. Chapter Six

Natarek stopped when they entered the dungeons of the Cathedral; he pointed a sharp talon to the farthest cell where the rest of Zephon's own lieutenants had gathered. "In there, we have a prisoner of great importance. He was found just outside of the western gates, he had killed three of our fledglings. From the looks of him, milord, he appears to be a Sarafan priest." Approaching the cell, the lieutenants backed off as Zephon peered inside.  
  
Stretched out on the cold stone floor, the only light coming from Nosgoth's double moons through a small window, bleeding from his nose, lips and face covered with bruises, was a man wearing the armour of the reviled and hated Sarafan. The captive tried to push himself to his knees, but the injuries given him by the vampires had made him weak, and the soldier fell back defeated. That did not stop him from looking at Zephon with such insane anger blazing on his face, but the Clan lord gazed right back with his cold eyes; both silently gauging the others strengths and weaknesses. The Sarafan broke eye contact first and looked behind Zephon at Zarina; she had stayed close to the opposite wall and as far away from the other vampires as possible.  
  
"Sorceress Larconquelle," the warrior spoke, his voice raspy. He raised a hand weakly towards Zarina, and then let it drop to the ground. "I have finally found you, my Lady." Zarina, her face suddenly flushed with colour, pushed Zephon aside and knelt down, reaching her graceful hand through the bars to touch the Sarafan's fingertips.  
  
"Ferrio. It is you, Ferrio. What has brought you here, my old friend?"  
  
Ferrio coughed and once again pushed himself to his knees, enclosing Zarina's hand in his own. "To find you, of course. Since the last battle where you had been captured, I was sent by Lord Roken of the Western Chapter to bring you back. What are you doing in a place like this, Zarina?"   
  
"She does not have to answer your questions, human. You will answer to us," Zephon spoke harshly as he pulled Zarina to her feet and pushed her away from the cell. "Tell us why you are here, the truth, and your death will be quick and painless."  
  
"To find her and bring her back to where she rightfully belongs, hell spawn. That is the truth." Ferrio coughed again, deep and strong enough to shake his whole body. When his hand came away it was covered in blood.  
  
Zarina whirled on Zephon, her face mere inches from his. "Find him a doctor; he cannot answer you petty questions in this condition. Look at him, he will die before the day is out, my lord."  
  
"He can answer them with the way he is. If he dies then that is that, one less human for my kind to worry about. Your friend was able to converse with you easily enough, consort." Ferrio's expression turned from one of pain into shock as he heard those words echo in the dungeon halls. Zephon smiled at the Sarafan after he caught sight of the man's expression and nodded. "Oh yes, you did not know. Well, she is my consort, now allied with us vampires, lowly Sarafan. But that is unimportant; just tell us the truth as to why you were here. Why were you trespassing in lands that even your kind would not enter without some sort of army that walks behind them. Tell me, or I will question you and I assure you that my method is one that you will not be fond of."  
  
"I will answer no such questions, vampire. Release my friend for I command it."  
  
"You are in no position to give demands," Natarek voiced. He leaned against the wall, an arrogant expression on his usually impassive face. The other commanders laughed maliciously at the human's plight. Zephon gazed at the Sarafan priest for a moment, then at Zarina. Why was there hope in her eyes directed at him when she knew he would give none? Human feelings were so weak and useless.  
  
"Since you will not talk, you will be tortured. Natarek, Siglar, prepare him. We will drag an answer out of your lips, human, and only after we are satisfied with the answers will you die."   
  
Natarek swung the cell door open and he and Siglar entered. Ferrio rose unsteadily to his feet, blood seeping from a wound in his lower abdomen, and lunged at the vampires. Siglar punched the warrior in the gut without breaking stride; Natarek grabbed the Sarafan before he could fall to the ground. Zarina covered her face with her hands, not wanting to see her friend's accusing eyes glaring at her as he was dragged past. She felt helpless; she was helpless to do anything. The rest of Zephon's officers filed past their Lord and Lady to begin the interrogation on the Sarafan.  
  
"How could you," Zarina whispered softly. Her blue eyes, wet with tears, looked into Zephon's soulless gray. They were filled with hurt, such pain that he looked away disgusted. "You could of let me stay a few moments longer with him. I haven't seen him in so long, so very long. How would you feel if you had someone you had known all your life just taken away like that?"  
  
Zephon shifted his weight from one foot to another and glared at her. "I would not mind at all. In fact, I know a few people that I would like to be rid of entirely. If you want to see your beloved friend, then come with me to the interrogation, wench." Zarina stopped her crying and looked at the Lieutenant for a moment. Zephon expected some sort of wounding comment to come from her, but Zarina did not say anything. She acted instead.  
  
She slapped him full across the face.  
  
For a few moments, time seemed to slow and stop. Lowering her hand, Zarina wiped the tears from her eyes and walked away quickly, the rustling of her skirt the only sign of her passage. Zephon's cheek stung, but he made no move to see if he had been cut. He couldn't believe that Zarina had slapped him; no one had done anything like that to him in his whole life. One side of Zephon wanted to go after her, to beat her, but the other side told him to stay, to leave Zarina alone with her grief. He did that just that, thankful that there was no one around to see his embarrassment. He did not care for Zarina or her feelings; she could throw herself from the Cathedral for all Zephon cared.  
  
As he walked down the dungeon corridors to the interrogation room, Zephon wondered why if he didn't care for Zarina at all, then how come his chest was hurting so much and he couldn't stop thinking about her?  
  
"I have no time to deal with such trivial matters," he muttered to himself. Silently Zephon made a note that he would see her after the questioning to make sure she had not done anything stupid. Opening the door to the dark interrogation room, he closed it behind him, a malicious smile playing across his lips. 


	7. Chapter Seven

The interrogation finished just past dawn. The Sarafan was strong, but ever with his wounds and more being dealt to him, he would talk sooner or later. And he did. The information that was given was valuable to say the least, Zephon mused. Ferrio uttered the words though skinned lips, his face nothing more than a mass of bruises, skinned flesh that exposed the muscle and bone underneath. He was allowed to die after he had spoken every word; Natarek had given him mercy by slitting his throat. After making quick plans and sending out scouts of his own, Zephon ordered the body burned.   
  
He needed to go and see Zarina.   
  
The sun was coming just above the horizon as Zephon marched down the halls quickly. He did not know what he was going to say to the woman; he didn't think anything could be said. For once in his life, Zephon felt shameful for the act he had just committed; he knew that Zarina had gained the upper hand that she was in the right with the slap across his face before.  
  
"I will not reprimand her, I am simply there to tell her what that Sarafan said. She said it herself, she wants to know everything that happens here and that's what I will do," Zephon muttered under his breath. "Why the hell am I talking to myself? She has cast a spell on me, that sorceress. I am sure of it." Too soon did he find himself standing outside Zarina's door; he should have taken the longer route. Reaching for the handle, Zephon found to little amusement that she had locked the door. It didn't matter; one swift jerk of his arm was all it took for the door to come off its hinges. Another thing for the servants to fix. As Zephon stepped into the room, he wasn't prepared for the scene before him.  
  
The entrance hall was ruined. The table in the center had been overturned and the vase of flowers broken into millions of tiny shards; the flowers themselves had been crushed. The tapestries along the walls had been ripped down and scorched; Zephon thought about how Zarina could make fire come from her hands. Walking around an overturned chest containing clothes, the vampire peered quickly into the bedroom. Zarina was not in there, but the room itself was in the same state of disarray as the main chamber, the sheets torn off the bed and ripped; the dresser doors flung open and the contents scattered about the floor.  
  
Cursing for not posting a guard outside the chambers, visions of the young woman leaping from the Cathedral began to appear in Zephon's mind. Maybe this time he had really pushed his luck; his bluff had been called. If she is not in the other room, then I will order the Watch to find her, Zephon numbly thought. How could he have let such a thing happen? He passed back through the main chamber and into the large parlor; it looked as if a small cyclone had entered the antechamber and had a ball. The bookcases had collapsed, their tomes scattered along the red-carpeted floor with pages torn out; the sparse furniture overturned and pillows torn, the feathers still floating about the room. The arched windows had been opened, their curtains torn from their rings and Zephon's black heart leapt into his throat.   
  
How could he of been so stupid? He regretted even bringing her to the dungeons; all of this could have been avoided had he sent Zarina back to her rooms.  
  
Then he found her. Curled up in ball, her knees tucked underneath her head and with her arms wrapped around her body, lying on the window seat, was Zarina. One of the ruined curtains covered her and spilled down onto the floor. She was staring blankly out of the opened window, staring at the approaching dawn. She did not seem to notice Zephon as he approached her, nor moved when he gently touched her shoulder.  
  
"Zarina," Zephon's voice broke the quiet. The sorceress turned to face him. The expression she wore was unreadable, her eyes glazed over and looking at nothing, passing right thought him. Zephon sat down beside her, his hands on her shoulders, as he looked her over. She hadn't injured herself, at least what Zephon could see, but she looked…dead. "Damn you, Zarina, answer me." Those words seemed to rouse her; she raised her head to look at him.  
  
"Why?" With that word a spike pierced into the Clan lord's heart. He expected finding Zarina for her to scream at him, to hit him with her bare hands or to have found her on the ground dead. She was so weak, so weak. Zephon grasped her hands and brought them up to his face; she was so cold, even colder than he was. Pain filled Zarina's blue eyes but no tears formed. She had cried all she possible could; there was nothing left inside.  
  
"Do you want to know why," Zephon replied, his voice low, soft and surprisingly gentle. Zarina gave a short nod, her eyes never leaving his. "To say it was necessary was an understatement. He is Sarafan, the Clans and Lord Kain's mortal enemy. The information that we needed from him took top priority; he had come into our lands and for good reason. He is, was, scouting ahead for an army. The Sarafan will come to my lands in under three days; that is what he uttered to me. I have a duty to protect Lord Kain, but also my own people. We are just as caught up as you humans in this race for survival and your friend had information that I needed to keep my people safe."  
  
"Was it quick?" Her hands were lax in Zephon's but he could feel them tremble slightly.  
  
The truth would break her, Zephon thought. I cannot tell her what happened; her heart will break from knowing what she should not. Caressing her hands gently Zephon whispered, "It was quick. He was in great pain, but he told us everything. I made sure that he did not suffer, my lady."  
  
Zarina gave a choked laugh. "I am glad. I would not want to see him suffer any more than he had to. Ferrio and I had been friends since we were children; I never thought I would see him like that. I am glad that he is released." She turned her head back towards the window and was silent again. On an impulse, the smallest one, Zephon wrapped his own arms around Zarina and held her close. She didn't resist, only continued to look at the rising sun.  
  
"I am sorry for causing you this pain, Zarina. I am so sorry."   
  
Why did he say those words? Zephon's mind spun; he was apologizing to a human? Vampires should not care for humans in any way, Lord Kain's voice echoed in his mind. They will kill us all; slit our throats like dogs when given the chance. Then why am I doing this, Zephon questioned. Zarina rested her head against the Lieutenant's chest; a sigh escaped her lips.  
  
"Do you need anything, my lady?"  
  
"No, I don't. Zephon?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Could you just hold me like this for a little longer, if you don't mind?" Her eyes did not seem as lifeless anymore and the warmth was returning to her body.  
  
"No, I do not mind at all. I will hold you for as long as you want." He tightened his grip on her slightly to show he was not joking.  
  
"You will have to go and see Kain, won't you?"  
  
"Yes, but not at the moment. Let us enjoy the quiet right now." The sun rose over the Cathedral, making the stainglass cast its vivid artwork over the courtyard below. 


	8. Chapter Eight

By mid-afternoon Zephon, Zarina, and his officers were heading towards the Sanctuary at a brisk pace on their horses. Scouts from his Clan had been coming and going, updating their lord on where the Sarafan army lay. To Zephon the vampire hunters were getting too close for his tastes; that was why his meeting with Kain would be brief and to the point. Pulling his mount closer to Zarina, Zephon leaned over to look her in the face.  
  
"You did not have to come. My brothers will most likely be there and they will wish to speak to you." She gave him a smile with a glitter in her eyes.  
  
"I cannot avoid them forever, my lord. Sooner or later I would of had to meet them and this presents a perfect opportunity to make their acquaintance." Dressed in a gray riding skirt divided down both sides, Zarina's hair was pulled over one shoulder of her white blouse and tied into a loose braid, shawl still wrapped about her arms. Zephon thought at that moment, even in the overcast sky, that she was beautiful. Of course he would never say anything like that out loud, but all the same he thought she was beautiful. And in that short time of holding her in the ruined study, Zephon felt all the closer to her. He didn't resent having her around anymore; he had gotten use to Zarina and liked her company. Perhaps she felt the same.  
  
"Either way, you could of stayed at the Cathedral." Zephon secretly thought to himself that he rather she didn't come because Turel, always the player, would be there. Turel would immediately turn on his charms and flirt with Zarina. With a start the Clan lord realized he was envious; he didn't want anyone but him to become close to Zarina. She was his consort, not one of his brothers. When did you begin to act like this, a voice chided inside Zephon's head. He brushed it out of the way and turned his attention back to riding his horse. Rounding the last bend of the canyons, the Sanctuary of the Clans came into view.  
  
Riding up to the massive iron gates, the vampire guards saluted to Zephon as he dismounted and helped Zarina off her horse. The two strode through the gates and into the dark halls; a few vampires passed them by and whispered amongst themselves after finally seeing this consort of Zephon. Crossing over wide bridge overlooking a garden below, the throne room's doors finally came into view.   
  
And standing beside them were the other Lieutenants.  
  
"Wonderful," Zephon muttered as he saw Turel point in their direction, the first to notice them. Only Turel, Rahab and Melchiah stood outside the doors; Dumah and Raziel possibly had business elsewhere. Zarina's hands were clasped tightly in front of her but she did not show any anxiety on her face, as she was about to meet some of the most powerful beings in all of Nosgoth.  
  
"Brother Zephon, we are glad to see your face again. And this beautiful woman must be your consort. We finally get to meet this mysterious sorceress that has been the talk of the Clans for the past while," Turel spoke as he took Zarina's hand and kissed it lightly. She smiled cordially at him and took her hand back. "I am Lord Turel, milady. Anything that you need, you only have to ask from me." Turel obviously did not see the dangerous look in Zephon's eyes.  
  
"I am Lord Rahab," the scholar nodded his head towards Zarina and she gave a slight bow back to him.  
  
Melchiah stepped forwards and took Zarina's hand but did not bother to kiss it. He had seen the look given by Zephon and did not wish to stir his brother's anger. "I am Lord Melchiah; it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."  
  
"And yours," she replied.   
  
"I need to speak to father as quickly as possible," Zephon interjected. "It is of utmost importance."  
  
"Raziel and Dumah are with him at the moment," Rahab replied bitterly. "They have had another one of their disagreements and father has decided to settle the matters once and for all."  
  
"What I must say to him overrides their petty troubles. I need to speak to him immediately."  
  
Turel shrugged his shoulders and gave one of his most charming smiles aimed towards Zarina while he spoke to Zephon. "You can go in if you want to but you will have to pay the price if it truly is not of great significance." Zephon turned to Zarina and whispered something in her ear before opening the doors to the throne room and walking in alone. Turel brushed imaginary dirt from his Clan shroud and walked a little closer to Zarina. Rahab rolled his eyes but did not do anything; she looked more than capable of caring for herself.  
  
"So you were a sorceress before coming here?"  
  
"Yes, and I still am," Zarina tossed her hair over her shoulder and gave a slight smile. "And I heard that your Clan dealt in magic as well."  
  
Turel gave another smile and Melchiah shook his head. He did not know what he was getting into. "So you have heard. Well, my Clan does specialize in magic, but we are all competent warriors. Tell me, do you enjoy living at the Cathedral? What do you think of our brother Zephon?"  
  
"Isn't that a little personal," Melchaih spoke up. Rahab waved a hand; he was engrossed in this little conversation as well.  
  
"I enjoy the Cathedral despite it being a maze at best and my relationship with Lord Zephon is none of your business." Turel's face fell for a moment, then that same grin came right back.  
  
"You much of had many admirers when you lived in the Citadel. One of your looks should have; it is only proper for a lady such as yourself." Rahab elbowed Melchiah in the ribs and the two silently laughed; they knew where this would be going.  
  
"I had no time for such things; I was always busy practicing my magic or helping out around the castle. Either way, when you are a sorceress, there is an air of aloofness around oneself. Most men thought I would burn them to cinders if they asked me a question I did not approve of."  
  
Turel sighed dramatically and crossed his arms over his chest. "Simple fools. If I had known about you, I would of come riding in on a white horse and plucked you from your tower for myself. You are a rare flower, Lady Zarina."  
  
She gave him a small smile and fixed her shawl, showing Zephon's banner. "Too bad that this flower was plucked by your brother, isn't it, Lord Turel?" Melchiah and Rahab began to laugh at the look on Turel's face when he had known he had lost. But he took it in stride, and began to laugh as well.   
  
"I know that we will become good friends, Lady. Rahab, Melchiah, introduce yourselves further to this cunning sorceress."  
  
  
***  
  
The doors clanged shut behind Zephon and he steeled himself for the reprimand that was to come from Kain. Both Raziel and Dumah were kneeling in front of their father with looks of puzzlement on their faces as Zephon walked towards them. Kain retained a mask of neutrality, his eyes looking over his fifth-born with some annoyance.  
  
"Father, I must speak with you about the gravest of matters." Zephon knew that if he were to make his plight known, he would have to say everything quickly. "The Sarafan are marching towards my Territories with a vast army; they are just two days away from my Clan holdings and from the Sanctuary. We need to act now if we are to stop them." There, he had said it. Now all Zephon had to do was wait.  
  
Kain rose from his throne slowly, a deadly grace about him. The father of all vampires walked over to his son and placed a claw on his shoulder. "I already know of this, Zephon. The Sarafan force will be easy enough for your own army to beat."  
  
"My own, father?" Dumah and Raziel exchanged looks between each other, and the first-born vampire spoke.  
  
"Father, the Sarafan are not to be taken lightly. Zephon's army is still recovering from their last encounter and if the humans forces are anything that we have seen before, then he will need help. I will commit my own warriors to this battle."  
  
"As will I," Dumah added. "My Clan has been ready to see battle again for the last year; we are eager to test our mettle against this new force." Kain glared at both of them, a look that told the Lieutenants to be silent or he would silence them himself. In the distance, church bells from the human Citadel tolled.  
  
"Your force will be enough to stop them, Zephon. I have faith in you; you captured the Avernus Cathedral without any help from the other Clans so what does a force of Sarafan mean against your Clan territories? Do you know the size of the force?"  
Zephon shook his head. "My scouts have yet to return with an exact number, but they will give it to me once I return to my palace. Father, what makes you so sure that my force will be enough to stop the Sarafan?"  
  
"Because I have complete faith in you, Zephon." Kain gave one of his rare smiles, and then turned to look at Dumah and Raziel. "Your Clans, and your brothers, will not interfere. I have my reasons Zephon, and I expect them to be obeyed. You may leave now. Raziel, Dumah, I still need to have words with you."  
  
The look on Zephon's face was one of bewilderment. Why would Kain just brush off the Sarafan like this? Did he not know what could happen if Zephon's own forces were not enough to stop the humans? His army was mainly composed of foot soldiers with catapults and cannons for his artillery; all of the vampires in his Clan were trained to fight but perhaps the years of peace had made them grow lax. And now Zephon could not even count on his own brothers for support if it was required. Just was game was Kain playing at?  
  
Bowing, Zephon left the throne room.  
  
  
  
* **  
  
  
"Over fifteen hundred Sarafan," Natarek reported to Zephon, bowing deeply with his eyes on the floor in the large war room. He had seen first-hand what had happened to vampires that brought his master bad news and Natarek wished to keep his head on his shoulders. "One thousand cavalry, the other five hundred foot soldiers. What do you wish, my lord?"  
  
A large map of Zephon's Territories was unrolled across the large table, coloured pins showing the advance of the humans' army. New reports came in from the scouts every few minutes; the Sarafan were moving quickly. Zephon looked with some concern at the map, then traced a claw down one of the lines that marked the canyon the Sarafan were using. "We place some of our scouts here and here and they can make hit and run attacks against the foot soldiers at night; try and cut down the number and instill fear. We will divide the forces at this point, were the main canyon route splits off into two smaller routes towards the Cathedral. Catapults and cannons at both ends, as well as five hundred vampire troops at each point with archers along the canyon walls. One vampire alone makes up for three Sarafan. The remaining thousand vampires will be held in reserve just beyond in the field just in case the Sarafan break through. They will have to divide their own forces when the canyon path breaks."  
  
"My lord," Siglar stated, "why can we not ask the other Clans for assistance?"  
  
Zephon gave him a quick glance and turned back to the map. "Orders from Lord Kain, we fight alone. Besides, we can hold this army and cut them to pieces as we have time and time again with others. The newly created cannons will cut down their cavalry, the catapults will crush the Sarafan from far off and then we will attack. It is a strategy that had always worked. We ride out by nightfall. Natarek, Siglar, Oscot, prepare the forces." The three sub-commanders nodded and left the room.  
  
"Where shall I be?" Zarina quietly asked from the chair she was sitting it. "Will I ride into battle beside you, my lord? My magic will be of great help."  
  
"No, I want you to stay here at the Cathedral. Just in case," Zephon's voice fell quiet and he looked at the map for a moment before continuing, "just in case that my army is smashed, the reserve force will come back to the Cathedral and defend it. I would like you to stay here and shield this palace with your magic if it comes to that."  
  
She nodded and rose. "I understand. I have no regrets fighting against the Sarafan; this is my home now as much as it is yours." She gazed out the window and signed. "Night is falling."  
  
"Then I must prepare. Don't do anything rash that your kind is capable of," Zephon told Zarina. Brushing a lock of her hair out of her face gently, the Lieutenant looked into his consort's eyes for a long moment, and then left the war room. The silent bells of war began to ring. 


	9. Chapter Nine

Zephon and his sub-lieutenants rode out as night fell, the moon rising from the east, heading towards one of the two canyon paths. Craning his neck to see one last glimpse of Zarina at the gates, the Cathedral was blocked from his view as the canyon walls closed in. Zephon's armour shone a dull gold in the moon's light, his sword drawn and eager for blood. It had been such a long time since there had been a battle with the Sarafan, and Zephon found he was excited to clash with the foe with no assistance from his brothers. His officers knew the plan and what to do if the human forces became too much; Zephon reflected with some anxiety and hope that they would not have to fall back to the Cathedral if the Sarafan overran their positions in the canyon.  
  
Already his forces had been deployed; the cannons and catapults ready to take out the Sarafan from a distance could be heard and the scouts already picking off the lagging soldiers from the main force. Riding down the twisting paths of the ravine, his elite bodyguard behind him, Zephon could already make out the sounds of combat.   
  
Rounding the next bend, the Clan leader saw that the Sarafan force was already nearing the diverging canyon paths. But because of the narrow path the vampire hunters could not bring their full force to bear. A terrible mistake made by the commander. Their cavalry was already charging the Zephoniem vampires who were racing through the horses, sharpened claws cutting the animals flanks and bringing riders to the ground. Arrows fired though the air from the scouts' holdings higher up, the poisoned tips embedding themselves in the Sarafan and killing them quickly. The humans returned fire, but in the darkness and without the aid of their torches they could not hit any of the marksmen. The roar of a cannon was heard somewhere to Zephon's left and a group of human foot soldiers were torn down. Screams and gouts of blood filled the air as both vampire and human charged each other, blades meeting and blows parried. Bodies of the fallen littered the ground, but there were more of the Sarafan than anything else.  
  
"Glory for Lord Kain! Glory for Lord Zephon," the Zephoniem vampires chanted as they rushed at their prey.  
  
Zephon urged his steed forwards, knocking down a foot solider that tried to impale him with a pike and crushing him under his horse's hooves. Blade rising and falling in the moonlight, Zephon dealt lethal blows to the Sarafan; too many to count as he released them of their heads or rode over them. Natarek rode beside his lord, the deadly spear he used as his weapon impaling more than one human, blood running down the sharpened tip as the sub-lieutenant shook off the bodies. Natarek gave a wild grin to his master as he charged off to slay more of the human cattle.  
  
A Sarafan officer, dressed in silver armour and mounted on a black stallion, charged Zephon with a piercing battle cry. Their swords met for a moment, but Zephon was the stronger of the two and with a loud snap the Sarafan's blade broke and he was gutted like a fish. Another officer on foot raced to the Lieutenant; Zephon slashed at the man's chest, already knowing that the blow was fatal before the man collapsed to the ground. Two more foot soldiers tried their luck against one of Kain's Chosen; Zephon noted with some amusement that they would not be able to fight with their heads caved in as he dropped the bodies to the ground.   
  
A catapult fired from its position above and the heavy rock crashed into the middle of the Sarafan's cavalry; the once massive but now small square formation wavered for a few moments, and then broke. The foot soldiers had no one to command them and fought aimlessly, shouting among themselves to see who was in command. They were brought quickly to the ground by the fledgling vampires, webs spun about them so the deathblow could be struck.   
  
Already some were beginning to feed.  
  
The vampires cheered as they found victory within their grasp. A small group of cavalry, led by a blood soaked officer, broke through the vampire line and headed down one of the two pathways of the canyon towards the Cathedral.   
  
"My lord," Natarek yelled to Zephon as he raced past with his spear held high, "I will follow them; worry for the battle here!" Zephon was about to charge after them all the same when his horse bucked and fell to the ground, a spear through the animal's chest. He was thrown into the air and landed on his back for a few moments, stunned by the impact. Zephon noted with a detached sense of surprise that he had managed to hold onto his own blade.  
  
A sword flashed through the air, aimed at Zephon's head, was the only warning he was given.  
  
The vampire lord rolled to his right and kicked upwards at the human as the sword bit into the ground. The Sarafan and would be killer stumbled backwards, one hand holding his stomach while the other held his weapon, a massive and heavy blade. He could not of been older than thirty, but the human held himself with a grace that even Zephon had to step back and notice. Here was a swordsman, one that Zephon could duel against, and one that matched his own skill.  
  
"Your head will be a great prize for my commander," the Sarafan hissed. "It will be placed on a pike for all to see, for all to know that your kind can be destroyed easily enough." He inched closer, now both hands on the hilt, the blade flecked with blood.  
  
"If you can take my head, pitiful human. I will enjoy watching you die on my sword, just as I will enjoy massacring the rest of your kind here tonight." With a battle cry Zephon leapt forwards, bringing his finely crafted blade down on the human's. The warrior was slowly pressed backwards, the sureness on his face a few moments before now fading quickly. He lashed out with an awkward punch but Zephon glided back, and then twisted his sword in his hands for a thrust into the Sarafan's unprotected chest. He was blocked and the Sarafan pushed his advantage for the moment.  
  
Zephon parried a blow and slashed at the warrior's feet, hoping to cut at the unprotected flesh. Striking to the left, Zephon was denied an opening. Sweeping his massive blade about, the Sarafan hoped to cut the Clan lord in half, not realizing how fast vampires truly moved. Dodging clumsily to the side, the warrior lunged forwards as he saw an opening in Zephon's left side.   
  
But that was a ruse, an old one that Zephon used many times before to kill his opponents.  
  
Overstretching himself and unbalanced, the human passed straight by Zephon as the Lieutenant turned. With a victory cry, Zephon brought his sword down and cut the Sarafan clean in half from the waist. Both pieces of the body flopped onto the ground, the blood mixing with the earth.  
  
"You were good, but not good enough," Zephon hissed, looking into the dead eyes. He turned to look at the battlefield in front of him and a smile appeared. The foot soldiers had all been killed, bodies hacked to pieces by the vampires and the cavalry, as Zephon had seen, had broken and raced back the way they had come. The reserve force would easily deal with the few that had broken through. The moon had only begun to make its decent into the west; the battle was over.  
  
"Victory! Victory is ours," one of the vampires called out. The vampire warriors cheered, a thunderous echo in the narrow confines of the canyon walls. Zephon smiled at his children as he walked over to Oscot, who was feeding off one of the hapless foot soldiers. Tossing the body to the side, the sub-lieutenant wiped the blood from his mouth and saluted.  
  
"Milord, the Sarafan forces have fled back the way they have come. I have already taken the liberty of sending the scouts and a few of our best warriors to finish them off. May I say congratulations, Lord Zephon? A plan well executed and we did not even have to use the reserve forces nor seek help from the other Clans."  
  
"A good victory, indeed. Make sure that our fallen are returned to the Cathedral and to their families."  
  
"And the humans?"  
  
"Leave the bodies as they are, a silent warning to others who would dare cross into my lands. The survivors are to be bound and gagged and thrown into the dungeons. We will feast well once we return back to the palace. I also-"  
  
"Lord Zephon!" Natarek's voice was filled with pain as he rode out from one of the smaller canyon pathways. He was hunched over on his horse, spear missing, and one hand weakly gripping the reins while the other clutched his left shoulder. Two arrows were embedded deeply into the flesh, black blood seeping out between the armour. Zephon rushed over with Oscot and helped the vampire off, laying him down on the ground. "Lord Zephon, there is trouble."  
  
"Tell me," Zephon's claws tightened on Natarek's shoulders and shook him slightly. "What is it?"  
  
"There was another force…they came up by the river and nearly cut off the reserve force. They fell back to the Cathedral…but the Sarafan looked over two thousand strong. I came to…tell you. The gates have been closed and barred; no one can gain entry." Natarek struggled to rise, but Oscot pulled him back down.  
  
"Your wounds are too grave. Stay here Natarek and wait for the vampires that were sent off to kill the remaining Sarafan to return. When they arrive, come to the Cathedral with all haste."  
  
Natarek gave a bitter chuckle. "I already ordered all the vampire troops I met along the way to head back, my lord. I hope that does not bother you too much."  
  
"No, it does not. Oscot, Siglar, with me!" Grabbing one of the Sarafan's horses, Zephon mounted quickly and looked over his troops. "The Cathedral has fallen under attack from a surprise force of Sarafan! Gather your weapons, we will ride back and defend our home!"  
  
The Zephoniem vampires moved with a speed that seemed slow to Zephon. With a growl in his throat, the Clan lord spurred his horse back down the canyon path he had come from, sword unsheathed and reflecting the fading moonlight. His army followed after their lord, ready to give their lives as before to defend their homes.   
  
I am coming Zarina, Zephon thought. Just don't do anything stupid! Just stay alive! We'll be there soon enough! 


	10. Chapter Ten

"Hold the walls! Archers, aim and fire at will! Apothecary, I need an apothecary!" Zarina's voice filled the air as she knelt down beside a young fledgling, hands pressed over a shoulder wound inflicted by the damned Sarafan's arrows. Krellin, the youngest of Zephon's officers, had stayed behind to organize the defense, but it was Zarina who had quickly taken charge. At the moment the sorceress was pulling out the arrows on the fledgling's body as a young healer rushed to her side, bandages ready.   
  
"Milady, you need to get away from this area," Krellin shouted into Zarina's ears to be heard over the roar of the cannons. "It's not safe here!"  
  
"Apply pressure here," the healer commanded to Zarina as the young vampiress wrapped the cloth around the fledgling's wound.   
  
"My lady-"  
  
Zarina turned to face Krellin, her usually pale face flushed, hands covered in black blood. "I heard you the first time. I have to oversee the defenses and help the wounded! Can you walk?" Krellin realized she had directed the question to the fledgling that nodded weakly. With the vampiress helping him, the two made their way down to the courtyard below where the other wounded were being laid out.  
  
A particularly loud crash made the massive eastern walls of the Cathedral shake, jarring the archers and sending a few over the edge or making their shots go wild. Zarina and Krellin looked through one of the slits to the ground below and found the reason to the quaking. Two rows of Sarafan foot soldiers, under the cover of their shields, were pounding the Cathedral's gates with massive battering rams. Just across the moat stood the archers for the humans, raining down their own deadly missiles and beyond them siege towers were being lined up, ready to be filled by the zealous vampire hunters. Zarina could make out the rest of the army, a long line of white stretching in the darkness. She had not expected a third army to come in from along the river; it had been inconceivable. Hoping against hope that the scouts had reached Zephon to tell him of their plight, Zarina turned to look at Krellin.  
  
"What should we do?" Krellin's voice had a strong undercurrent of fear, his red eyes wide. Zarina grabbed his claw as he tried to rise from their hiding position, pulling him back down beside her.  
  
"Get the hot oil and tar and we'll pour it over them at the gates. It should hold them off for a while! Be careful, Krellin. Go." The officer nodded and scurried down the battlements as the Clan could do. At least, Zarina reflected, the walls had not been breached. We could hold out for a bit longer, at least until the Sarafan bring in the siege towers.   
  
Crouching low to the battlements, Zarina moved along the line of archers, grabbing new arrows for them that had come over with the Sarafan, telling the wounded to hold on just a bit longer until the healers could come and holding the vampires that would soon die, comforting them in their last moments. She could see Krellin directing a group of servants and vampires holding the vast pots of bubbling oil over to the gates; with a strength born of determination, the large pots were tipped over, the hot liquid splashing over the Sarafan.  
  
Horrible screams filled the air, along with the smell of charred flesh; things that Zarina hoped to never hear again. The Zephoniem vampires cheered as they saw the hunters flee back across the bridge; spears were thrown into the backs of the humans and arrows hissed through the night sky to find their targets. The siege towers were now being pulled towards the Cathedral, foot soldiers running alongside the constructions of war with their cursed battle cries ringing through the air. In the higher levels of the Clan's holdings, the cannons roared out again and managed to bring down two of the towers.  
  
On the west side of the Cathedral, it was not going as well. Most of the Zephoniem archers had been killed by the magic of the Sarafan's magi, the high walls indented with the rocks being catapulted at it. Pieces of vampire bodies lay strewn about the walkways and more than once Zarina had to push through a pile of the corpses. Her eyes were running from the smoke in the air, her nose was assailed by the smells wafting up over the battlegrounds, and her clothing and hair was matted with dried blood. With her appearance, Zarina was nearly killed by a group of adult vampires taking recess behind the ramparts who mistook her as a devil.  
  
"Who's in charge here?"  
  
"No one, sorceress. A bolt of lightning killed our sergeant and then they sent over a rain of fire upon us! We're all that remains of the original defense here," a burly vampire said, scars crossing his pale face.  
  
"Do you still have any arrows or spears left," Zarina peered behind the destroyed rampart at the four iron catapults and the two straight lines of Sarafan wizards looking back at them.  
  
"Only forty arrows lefts and about twenty spears."  
  
"That will be good enough, sir. Would you be able to cover me as I prepare a spell?" The vampires nodded, arming themselves with the last of their weapons. Zarina closed her eyes and brought her hands together as if praying. Blue light began to seep through her fingers and sparks of energy danced along the backs of her hands. Opening them, a tiny orb floated just above Zarina's palms. She nodded to the burly vampire.  
  
"Fire," he yelled, rising from his hiding spot and throwing his spear towards the sorcerers. The other vampires moved in perfect unison, arrows creating a small and deadly cloud of black as they managed to hit the mages or crews manning the catapults. Zarina took the small ball of eldritch energy and tossed it into the center of the catapults; an almighty explosion followed with dirt being thrown into the air. As the smoke cleared, there was nothing left of the iron machines save a few twisted piece of metal and nothing of the sorcerers.  
  
"That was excellent," a vampire slapped Zarina on her back. He realized the gravity of his mistake, but Zarina motioned him away. She was tired, spent from condensing so much magic at once. But the west side would now hold; already she could see reinforcements coming from the courtyard and the higher towers. They would be able to hold the Cathedral until Zephon returned, Zarina was sure of it.  
  
"Lord Zephon and his army approaches," Krellin yelled, pointing towards the canyons. Zarina gazed toward the ravines and saw a swift moving line racing across the wide fields. In a moment of unlady-like behavior, Zarina gave a loud whop of joy that startled a fledgling next to her. They could win yet.  
  
***  
  
"Ride! Kill them all; none are to be spared," Zephon shouted over the din of battle. His army had come upon the backs of the Sarafan so quickly that the humans could only stare in surprise as their well ordered lines collapsed about them. Snarling faces, pale and drenched in blood, leered at them through a haze of smoke. The siege towers had been set aflame by a small group led by Siglar, and Oscot had managed to grab the cavalry in a pincher move; the Sarafan cries and pleas for mercy went unheard as they were torn down.  
  
Zephon's own blade was slick with blood and more covered his armour and face. Wherever the thickest fighting lay, he was there. More than enough heads rolled on the ground because of him. Zephon carved a blood path towards the Cathedral with his bodyguard, hacking at anyone that stood in their way. There was only one problem that plagued him.   
  
Where was the Sarafan commander?   
  
Giving a very brief glance towards his palace, Zephon saw that it remained unbreached if damaged somewhat. Turning his horse around and making the animal rear into the air, a Sarafan knight fell beneath the animal's hooves. Zephon left the human to be killed by his bodyguards as he kicked the horse to move faster, climbing up a hill awash in blood. The humans looked ready to break; if their leader was killed them they would all fold easily enough. For a brief moment there was a lull in the battle and the Clan leader's piercing gaze finally fell on the commander.  
  
Clad in golden armour, those damned runes of protection ablaze, the commander rode alone with his bodyguard unit either destroyed or left behind. The commander turned his head to look at the position of his own troops and found Zephon staring back at him. Even with the distance separating them, the hate between the two commanders was palpable. Raising his sword, Zephon charged down the hill at the Sarafan leader.  
  
Both of their blades clashed with such strength that a resounding crack could be heard. A fracture appeared in Zephon's blade, but he could also see another in the Sarafan's. They both disengaged at the same moment and brought their horses about for another pass. Zephon came in with a low sweep aimed for the Sarafan's throat but was blocked once again by the damned human. Another crack appeared in the vampire's blade.  
  
"Have the decency to die," the commander hissed as the two came face to face. Zephon pressed forward with his blade; the resistance of the vampire hunter was beginning to crumble. Another fracture appeared in Zephon's blade, but an even larger one made itself noticeable in the Sarafan's.  
  
"You cannot hope to win. I am your death, and this battlefield will be your grave." Both disengaged and came around for one more pass. Even before the sword had found its mark, Zephon knew that the arrogant human was dead. Both blades struck once more, the two warriors wrestled, but Zephon's blade went true to its mark while the Sarafan's shattered. The vampire lord's cutting blade pierced through the armour and entered into the human's heart, killing him instantly. Zephon would of laughed out loud as the Sarafan leader's body fell to the ground, but an agonizing pain caused him to scream out.  
  
The Lieutenant looked down and saw the broken edge of the Sarafan's blade embedded in his chest. Black blood oozed out from his armour and Zephon felt himself feeling dizzy and light headed. Pain coursed through him as he touched the broken blade. Zephon felt the world tilting beneath him, his grip on the reins becoming unsteady.   
  
The last thing he saw before darkness claimed him was the gates to the Cathedral being opened and Zarina, along with Krellin and Natarek, running towards him. 


	11. Chapter Eleven

Zephon opened his eyes slowly; the slight action pained him incredibly so. The first thing he saw was the ceiling of his chambers, muted light streaming onto the stone floor from the windows above. He was in his bed, the covers pulled up to his chest and the pillows propping his head up slightly for the Clan lord to see what was happening before him, which was nothing at the moment. The Lieutenant looked down at his chest where the sword's tip had cruelly pierced his flesh and found bandages wrapped expertly about him. Dried blood stained the white linen, but there was no bleeding save for a slight pain. But Zephon could bear it easily enough; he had had wounds that had been the same as this one and still survived. A comforting silence filled the room. Zephon heard a slight sound from his right and turned his head to look at the disruptor, a reprimand ready to fly. Instead a smile crossed his black lips.  
  
Zarina was curled up in a chair at the bed's edge with a blanket wrapped around her body, head against the backrest, eyes closed and snoring ever so slightly. The sorceress looked exhausted and Zephon was content just to let her sleep and watch her for the moment.   
  
Had she been looking after him all this time?   
  
How long had it been since the battle?  
  
The Clan lord must of made some noise, for Zarina's eyes snapped open and she literally threw herself from the chair, standing over the bed and looking at Zephon. "Oh, you are finally awake. How do you feel, my lord?"  
  
"Well, I suppose. Not too much pain from the wound inflicted upon me in battle." Zephon looked up into Zarina's concerned eyes, a hesitant smile on her face. Was she truly that glad that he had not been killed? "Have you been taking care of me all this time?"  
  
"I could not leave it up to the servants, my lord. And your officers are very busy, trying to rebuilt the fortifications that have been damaged and tallying up the body count."  
  
"So what happened after I collapsed, Zarina?" Zephon pulled himself upright, making a face from the pain shooting through his chest and brushing aside the hand Zarina offered.  
  
"I had ordered the gates opened when I saw you charging through the Sarafan ranks. The force inside the Cathedral was howling for blood and received it. The vampire hunters could not stand against your army and the reserve force; they were crushed and quite literally. No one was left standing; I gave that order." She brushed aside a lock of hair and gave a small smile; pride filled Zarina as she remembered how the Zephoniem vampires had trusted her judgment and how she had led them through to the end. "We rushed you back to your chambers and managed to take the blade out of you. For a while, the blood you were losing made me…us all fear for your life. I had to cast a cure spell on you, then stitch up the wound and bandage it. The regenerative powers of your kind are remarkable, Zephon, and I am sure that tomorrow the stitches can come out and you will be up and walking again soon."  
  
"How long have I been here, lying in this bed?"  
  
"Only three days. You were tossing and turning for quite a while; Natarek ordered that I sleep since I hadn't in a day and a half. But then I believe he hasn't slept much either. The final body count is one hundred and fifteen of your children, Zephon."  
  
The Lieutenant closed his eyes and flexed his talons. "That is to be expected, but we destroyed the Sarafan forces easily enough. I thought that it would have been much worse."  
  
"Are you hungry?"  
  
Zephon quirked an eyebrow and gave a half-smile. "Starved. I haven't fed in three days."  
  
"Would my blood suffice?" Zarina's face was composed and serious, she actually meant what she said as she held out the palm of her hand.   
  
"I do not think that would be such a good idea. It would be better to get a slave, one of the ones that Rahab breeds." Zephon had been tempted with Zarina's offer, but once a vampire began draining the blood from their victim it became impossible for them to stop.  
  
"Then I will have one sent up. Siglar and Natarek also wish to speak to you, if you are feeling strong enough, that is."  
  
"Yes, I believe I am."  
  
"Then rest until they come, my lord." Zarina pressed her lips to Zephon's forehead; checking him for a fever, she said.  
  
***  
  
Zephon drifted in and out of consciousness. He remembered speaking to his officers briefly, then falling back into sleep, only to wake up again to feed on the hapless human cowering before him. Then sleep overtook him again, until someone rudely poked Zephon in the chest where he wound was. Sitting up faster than he should of, Zephon looked at his brothers standing around his bed.  
  
"You finally woke up, dear brother," Rahab said solemnly. A look of such genuineness clouded his features. "For a moment I thought that you were truly dead."  
  
"How are you feeling?" Raziel sat down on the mattress and gave a wide grin.   
  
"Good enough until someone poked my wound," Zephon sneered back. Raziel nodded and pointed to Turel, obviously the culprit.  
  
"Well sorry, but I had to make sure that you really weren't dead," the second eldest winked at his younger sibling. "You're consort wasn't about to let us in until she was sure you were strong enough to talk to us. You are so lucky, Zephon."  
  
"The battle, what was it like." Dumah leaned forwards, his face practically inches from Zephon and arms crossed over his chest. "Tell us all about it, every single detail since we were denied the chance to fight alongside you."  
  
Melchiah cleared his throat and looked at the proud warrior. "I do not think that Zephon is up to speaking about his latest military campaign, Dumah. He just woke up."   
  
"Exactly," Zephon spoke, for once in his life agreeing with his weakling brother. "In a few days I will tell you the whole tale, but until then I do not think I am up to speaking about it."  
  
"Does the wound hurt much," Raziel pointed to the bandages and the small stain of dark blood that smeared the pure white.  
  
"Only when someone touches it. As I am told, I was quite lucky that the sword's blade broke when it did or else I would have had the metal coming out of my back. But I can say that the Sarafan commander if off worse than I am." Dumah laughed and clapped Zephon on the back, propelling him forwards and causing more pain to blaze. "Do that again, brother, and you will have a wound similar to mine."  
  
Turel tisked and leaned against one of the bed's posts. "Lady Zarina, she is quite the human. She held the Cathedral walls and retaliated with her own magic. From what I have heard, it was quite the explosion. How I would of given anything to see that."  
  
"Turel, for once in your life will you stop talking about Zarina. You're making Zephon very jealous," Raziel pointed at the vampire, whose eyes had a deadly look in them as he stared at Turel.  
  
"I am just simply stating the obvious. Can you not even take a compliment?"  
  
Before an argument could start, Rahab, always the peacemaker, changed the subject. "How long until you can move about again?"  
  
"I am confined here until my consort takes out the stitches and thinks that I am well enough, which I believe I already am. But it would do no good to argue with her."  
  
"She has you on a short leash, dear brother."  
  
"Shut up, Melchiah before I sew your mouth up and burn your eyes out. Where is father; why is he not here?"  
  
An uncomfortable silence filled the air. Zephon looked at each of his brothers in turn, waiting for an answer. Raziel, always the one with the answers, spoke. "He has been busy; the Clans have not seen him for some time. But then Kain always leaves for a while, only to reappear when needed. We have no need to worry for the Master's safety. And I think we have worn you out from all this conversation, Zephon." It was true Zephon did feel slightly wasted from all the questions and answers. "I think it is best that we all take our leave."  
  
The five brothers walked out of the room, Raziel the last to leave. He simply patted Zephon's shoulder, gave a hearty smile and a wink, and then was gone as if he had never been there to begin with.  
  
***  
  
"Congratulations, the wound has healed and you can move about now like it never happened. Not even a scar." Zarina pulled the last of the thread from Zephon's chest and stood, packing away the medical supplies. The vampire swung his legs over the side of his bed and stood only to collapse on the bed again.  
  
"And I am as weak as a babe. Just give me a few moments for the feeling to come back into them, and then I will walk about."  
  
"Well, I hope so, my lord." Zarina gave a smile at Zephon. "Because tonight your children have decided to hold a party. You are, of course, expected to attend even if I have to order Natarek to bring you down to the hall."  
  
"Damn you, wench." A sarcastic tone filled Zephon's voice. "There's no way out of that, I guess."  
  
"None at all. Your vampires have been waiting for you to get well and now that you have, that is one good reason to celebrate. Another reason for such good cheer is because they were able to drive back the Sarafan and just show the rest of the Clans that they are still battle ready and do not need the help of others." She sat down beside Zephon. "Unless you want me to call the celebration off."  
  
Zephon rose once again to his feet, took a few steps forwards and grabbed onto the wall for support. "Why would I have you do such a thing? The party will go forward, I will attend it with you by my side." Zephon turned to stare at the sorceress as he crossed the room, a triumphant expression on his face. "I am able enough, and there hasn't been a party here for some time. Will my brothers be attending?"  
  
"No, but should I send our invitations now?"  
  
"Not at all." Zephon crossed his chamber, touched upon the far wall, then came back to the bed and sat down beside his consort, taking her hands in his. "It is a victory for the Zephoniem and no one else. Besides, I want to see how you dance. My children truly do love you now, even if you are not a vampire."  
  
"And I have accepted this Cathedral as my home now, and you as my lord. It is as simple as that."  
  
"Then let us get ready for the party." 


	12. Chapter Twelve

To say that the Zephoniem vampires are a dull and boring Clan is an understatement. When a celebration is called for, they are the only Clan that will outdo all the others no matter what. The large hall of the Cathedral was worked over in festive decorations; flowers and ribbons of bright colours wreathed the pillars and higher levels; candles burned brightly in their gilded stands; in an alcove a group of musicians were playing a lively tune for the dancers. Long tables arranged in a semi-circle were filled with platters of food, thralls moving back and forth with wine or ale in tall pitches for the vampires already feasting.  
  
At the main table Zephon and Zarina sat, along with his officers who were exchanging crude but humorous jokes. Zarina was dressed in a simple blue gown that exposed her pale shoulders, a circlet of gold holding back her long hair, cheeks red from laughing at the jokes Siglar and Oscot was telling her about. Zephon was dressed in his best as well, wearing his usual black leather pants with a white tunic of silk. He drank deeply from his goblet of warm blood and looked at the dancers whirling in front of him. All he needed to do was work up the courage to ask Zarina to dance. Imagine that he, Zephon, the most outspoken of all the Lieutenants besides Dumah, couldn't even work up enough courage to ask such a simple thing. Natarek must have understood what was going through his creator's mind, as he always did and leaned across from his chair and tapped Zephon on the shoulder.  
  
"Would you mind if I asked your consort to a dance?"  
  
"No, not at all, Natarek."  
  
"Do not worry, my lord, I will bring her back in one piece." Finishing off his ale, Natarek stood and walked over to Zarina, offering his claw. She took it and the vampire lead her out onto the dance floor, just as reel began to play. Zarina's face literally lit up as Natarek spun her around quickly, and then raised her into the air to catch her gracefully as she landed back on her feet. A space was cleared for the two dancers as they moved along, the vampires rhythmically clapping, faster and faster to the beat until the dance finally ended.  
  
True to his word, Natarek did bring back Zarina, if slightly flushed. Sitting back in her chair, the sorceress literally gulped down her wine and looked at Zephon. "After I rest for a bit, will you then dance with me, my lord? I am sure you are just as fine, if not better, than Natarek." She pointed to the vampire who was now being assailed by a few vampiresses all claiming a dance with him.   
  
"Of course. How are you enjoying the party?" A fledgling was showing the young vampires a few magic tricks he had picked up; taking an apple into his talons and flipping it over his head, a dove appeared and flew off into the higher reaches of the Cathedral. The children squealed in delight and demanded him to show them again. There were a few acrobats and jugglers as well walking about the hall, showing off their skills; friends talked and laughed while young lovers looked into each others eyes, off in their own secret world.  
  
"I am enjoying these festivities. Back at the Citadel, you would never see anything like this." A new tune began to play from the bards' instruments and Zephon stood.  
  
"My lady," he offered his own talon and Zarina placed her hand in it. The two walked down to the wide floor, flower petals scattered about the tiles. The rhythm began, starting off slowly but quickly rising in pitch. "Are you sure you can handle a fast dance, Zarina?"  
  
"Only if you think you can keep up, Zephon. Don't worry, I will try to not upstage you."  
  
"Is that a threat of some sort, my lady?"  
  
"If you consider is something like that." The two began to spin about quickly on the floor, a grin on Zephon's pale features and Zarina smiling back at him. The music once again to pick up and the other vampires faces, as well as the decorations in the hall, became nothing more than blurs. Only Zephon and Zarina existed in their own world, with the melody playing in the distance. Bringing his hand to the small of Zarina's back, Zephon brought his consort closer to him as he tipped her backwards as the music ended. Her face was glowing with excitement, bosom heaving from the exertion, but she looked so beautiful to Zephon at that moment. Something passed between the two at that moment and the two both felt it, something that transcended all the barriers between a human and a vampire. Before Zephon could do anything, Krellin had tapped his shoulder.  
  
"May I have the next dance with lady Zarina, my lord?" The young vampire smiled hesitantly at the sorceress.  
  
"Yes, but just be careful," Zephon passed Zarina over to his youngest officer and headed back towards his seat. Zarina touched Zephon's claw before he could get very far and leaned over his shoulder to whisper in his ear.  
  
"You dance quite well, my lord Zephon."  
  
A smile graced his ebony lips for a moment. "As do you." Then the music picked up once again and Zarina was whirled away.  
  
***  
  
Zarina gave a shrill laugh at the joke Zephon had just told her, leaning heavily on his arm as they made their way back to their bedrooms. She had drunk just a bit too much as the night had worn on, but then so had the Lieutenant and he had no right to judge. The merrymaking had finished as the moon was setting but in some parts of the Cathedral the revelry was still going on. Zephon suspected that it would for the next three days and even a bit longer.  
  
Opening the door to his darkened rooms, Zephon helped Zarina over to his bed. She dropped down unceremoniously, her head hitting the pillows as Zephon followed.  
  
"Oh, I think I drank just a bit too much. The effects of vampire wine are quite deadly," she giggled, her cheeks splotched with red.  
  
"Same here. I haven't had a party like that in quite some time. I should have them far more often." Both started laughing for no apparent reason until they both fell silent. And once again their eyes met and that same feeling passed between them as it had in the hall. Zephon passed a claw through Zarina's long hair and stroked it, an uncertain expression clouding his face. "Do you wish to stay here tonight?"  
  
"I do not think that I would be able to walk back to my own chambers, Zephon. If you don't mind that is, then I will stay here for the night." Zarina traced a finger over his high cheekbones. Leaning across the bed, the sorceress closed her eyes and kissed the Clan lord tenderly on the lips, arms wrapped around his neck, her body pressed up against his. Zephon was caught off guard for a moment; he never expected Zarina to be so bold and do this to him. But he relented easily enough, resting his talons on her bare shoulders and kissed her back. The Lieutenant gave a silent groan when his consort pulled away, resting her head on his chest.  
  
"Was that the effects of the wine, my dear, or did you truly mean that kiss?" He looked into her eyes, expecting Zarina to start laughing again when he was being totally serious.  
  
"No, I am sober. It was just that before, after we finished dancing, that I wanted to kiss you but Krellin wanted to dance. But here now, alone with you, we are allowed the privacy that we could not have before. You did not want me to kiss you?"  
  
Zephon brushed her cheek with the back of his talon. "I enjoyed it, as I am positive I will every time you kiss me. Have you cast some sort of enchantment upon me, sorceress?" Zarina shook her head. " Well I believe you have. You will not see this soft side of me very often Zarina, so I suggest that you enjoy it while you can."  
  
"And you jest." Zarina was slowly unlacing Zephon's tunic, coyly looking into his eyes. "Truthfully, when I first came here I thought that I would be dead within the hour, my blood pooled on the floor. There have been some things that I have not wished to see here, but you Zephon have well taken care of me when I am sure no one else would of and that is a fact, my lord. I love you with all my heart and soul."  
  
"You love me?" Zephon hadn't expected anything like that to pass his consort's lips. He felt compassion and tenderness for her, secretly harboring a small spark of love for her as well, but he had never felt loved. Kain had been painful and strict with his sons' upbringing and affection for them had never been part of the equation. But now Zephon was being offered love from this young maiden and found it to be pure heaven, where he could equally return it and not have to feel rejected. "I have never been loved before, at least not in what you describe but…I love you as well, Zarina. Imagine, a human and a vampire like us together. What a strange pairing."  
  
"I find nothing strange about that, Zephon." Zarina had finished unlacing his silk tunic and was running a hand over his chest, feeling the hand muscle underneath the flesh. Zephon leaned down to kiss her again, taking the circlet off her head and dropping to the floor as something began to consume him. His kiss became impassioned, Zarina answering in kind. His hands began to caress her entire body, pulling at the fabric of her dress as her nails raked across his back. Zephon wanted her like he had never wanted anything before in his life; Zarina pulled him closer to her as they fell back into the bed.  
  
Two shadows melted together as one, the crescent moon dropping into the west as the sun cast its first rays against the lovers.  
  
*** 


	13. Chapter Thirteen

A whole year passed, a whole year of absolute bliss for Zephon. Never before had he felt so free, so full of energy when he was around Zarina, his beautiful consort, his twin soul. There were times when he reflected what his life would have been like without her, if he had killed her right from the beginning, but he dismissed such dark thoughts quickly. For once he was happy that he had not acted in haste as he usually did; Zarina would of never have been with him. But they were together and that is what mattered most to him. Zephon appreciated her sense of humour, the way she handled the Clan and its problems and was still the only girl that Zephon knew to have the courage to kick Turel, quite literally, out of the Silent Cathedral when he was acting a bit too 'playful' with her. He loved holding her in his arms and whispering kind words when no one else was present; more often than not Zephon would spend the whole day with Zarina and let the rest of the world fade from his eyes. It always did when he looked into the sorceress' eyes.  
  
But as always, that bliss was about to be broken.  
  
The Sarafan had once again risen up like the vile things that they were, and now their killing machine looked like it would not be stopped as easily as it had in the year before. Already Dumah's Clan, even if they were valiant warriors, had lost an alarming amount of vampires and Rahab's Clan was following in a similar fashion. The raids against human villages and towns had increased so the vampires could recruit new fledglings but then the Sarafan always managed to find the untrained vampires and do away with them before they could be a problem to the warrior monks. It was a vicious circle and one that looked like no one was going to be able to break out of easy. Unless something drastic was done, and quickly, then this war would continue for the Dark Gods knew how long.  
  
"I say we make it a do-or-die mission!" Dumah pounded the table in front of him, causing his other brothers sitting down to jump slightly. "We hit the Sarafan where it will hurt them the most and the war will end."  
  
"You forget, dear brother, that this 'mission' as you call it, might fail and then there will be even less vampires. We must all sit back and look at this from a logical point of view and not run screaming into battle waving swords in the air and you are prone to do." Turel pressed his talons together and gave a sharp look to the third son of Kain, daring him to find fault in his judgment. Dumah settled back into his seat, a sullen look on his face.   
  
"We can always continue with our raids; send the fledglings far away for them to be trained. Rahab, you can speed up their training, can't you?" Melchiah's voice was hesitant but filled with determination; his view held some merit to it.  
  
The Lord of the Rahabim Clan shook his head slowly. "Even if we do send all the fledglings away the Sarafan will still be able to find them, kill them and…it is too risky. Better than anything else that they stay close to their respective territories in case we are surprised. It may sound harsh but I rather sacrifice three fledglings as oppose to one adult vampire, who has more knowledge than they would. And we might even have to increase the raids and go out further to find prime breeding stock, even stealing little children in the night."  
  
"That has never bothered any of us before," Zephon sneered at Rahab. "Or perhaps your Clan should just vanish for a while; lick its wounds and build up your forces. You already control most of the great lakes and rivers of Nosgoth with your Clan's talent, Rahab, and the Sarafan cannot swim underwater. Let us be grateful that the humans do not have a monopoly over that."  
  
Raziel, who had been watching all of his brethren at the head of the black marble table and looking through reports from the spies, spoke. "Your Clan still gives valuable information as always Zephon, but I believe come the next battle against the Sarafan, your Clan will march to war with Turel's and mine." He held up a hand before Zephon could speak. "Yes, you have battled the Sarafan on your our territory but your Clan has been able to recoup from its losses and even come out stronger. Already there have been new reports from Clan Melchiahim that the Holy Order has begun to move towards the eastern mountains, into Dumah's territories, with a massive force capable of taking out all of Ash Village."  
  
"That is what I have been trying to say! They are moving out all of their warriors, leaving only a skeleton force back at their HQ because they don't think we are going to attack them there," Dumah stood up and began to pace the room. "My plan is this; we take the best warriors from every Clan and send them into the Sarafan Fortress, killing off the military leaders which will no doubt be there. At the same time, all the Clans unite together at Ash Village and we will pulverize the Sarafan. Break them once and for all, then Nosgoth will be our forever." Dumah stabbed a claw down on the map rolled out over the table to emphasis his point.   
  
"Your idea does hold great value," Zephon said, rising from his own seat and looking at the map, the black arrows indicating the human forces and the red, green, purple, blue, gray and yellow the Clans and their strategic positions. "A daring move, but it can be pulled off given the proper planning."  
  
"But the question remains: Who will be part of the strike force infiltrating the Sarafan HQ and who will be staying with the main force at Ash Village?" Turel glanced around the room. "Not to mention that we will leave our other Territories undefended so how can you be so sure, Dumah, that the humans will not have another force lying in wait and ready to spring? We all say what happened with Zephon last year." Zephon gave Turel a dangerous look and growled deep in his throat; Raziel placed a restraining claw on his shoulder.  
  
Raziel looked at the second eldest, a wise expression on his face. "Because they will not, Turel. Over the past year the Sarafan have become even more fanatical in their crusade to wipe our kind from this land and we all know that fanatics do not think straight. They want this war over just as quickly as we want it to be and they will commit everything to this mission, just as Dumah has pointed out in one of his brighter moments."   
  
Dumah sneered at the favored son, but did not say a thing.   
  
"So who will be going into the lion's den, and who will be defending against the wolves sent out against us," Rahab looked at everyone in turn. "I volunteer to lead the strike force against the Sarafan headquarters; my Clan and I can enter in by the sewers and gain access to the higher level within a few minutes."  
  
Raziel nodded. "And I will stay at Ash Village to lead my forces against the Sarafan. But to the strike force I can recommend my two lieutenants, Kilik and Daurgon."  
  
"As will I," Melchiah spoke up quickly, for once ignoring the dangerous look that Dumah gave to the weakest brother. "My lieutenants Fecour and Mecant are among the best in lightning raids but I will stay and help with the defense of Dumah's fortress."  
  
"I do not need you to help me," Dumah snarled. "You might as well go with the strike force! I cannot waste a single one of my officers as they will be needed for the Sarafan."  
  
Turel gave a chuckle. "Well, then it looks like I will have to commit all my best mages to go with me to the center of operations for the Sarafan! Nothing like magic to give the extra punch and I would relish being part of such an elite team. So Zephon, that leaves just you. Either you and your best officers can come with Rahab and I to the Sarafan fortress or you can stay with Raziel, Dumah and Melchiah as they try to hog all the glory on the battlefield."  
  
A silence fell on the room as Zephon looked at the map, then into the yellow eyes of each of his brothers. He had already decided which role he and his children would play; even after a year of meeting the Sarafan he was eager to fight them once again but on his own terms and strengths. Zephon looked at Turel and Rahab. "While it is always good that someone can go in through the sewers and take the lower levels, and while someone can pound down the main gates with sheer force of magic, you will need someone to descend from above and scale the walls in places where it might be impassable for others. I will commit myself to the strike force."  
  
Turel gave a laugh and jumped out of his seat, grabbing Dumah's claws and whirling around the room with him. "We're going to war! We're going to war! Finally we will have no more boredom, no more long hours of absolutely nothing to do!" Dumah shoved Turel away from him, sending the vampire mage into the wall.  
  
"We must also tell this to Lord Kain," Raziel interjected. "If there is anything that we have overlooked, then he will be able to find it for us."  
  
"This plan is fool-proof," Dumah smirked. "Nothing can go wrong."  
  
"Casualties might still be high for us but the rewards will be great," Melchiah spoke cryptically. "And either way, one vampire fledgling is worth two of their foot soldiers. Is that not what you said once, Zephon?"  
  
The Lieutenants looked at his youngest brother. "I am surprised that you remembered that, Melchiah, but do not expect that you have gotten into my good favors."  
  
"Let us go and see father right now," Raziel said as he turned to leave the room. The five Lieutenants followed after him with light hearts, but Zephon was the only one who was troubled. What would Zarina say about this plan?  
  
***  
  
Zarina sat quietly as Zephon finished telling her the whole plan, swirling the blood in his goblet before he drank it down, unease written easily across his face. Bowing her head for a few moments, the young sorceress contemplated everything she had been told, and finally speaking.  
  
"You cannot go alone, Zephon. Where you go I will follow, as you have promised me since the last battle. And I know the layout of the Sarafan headquarters better than some of your spies would, if memory was to serve me correctly and no changes were done."  
  
"Be reasonable Zarina, you cannot go. You are not even-"  
  
"I am going, my lord, whether you want me to or not. What happens if you are wounded once again, or human magic is needed where vampire magic is not? My love, I am your consort and I am to stand beside you throughout everything that might happen. I will be a part of this strike force and I promise not to slow you down at all." She gave Zephon one of her measured looks and placed her hands over his own.  
  
"You might be injured as well, Zarina. I cannot have that happen to you, my lady. The Clan might need you here or up in Ash Village, which would be a safer choice because of all the vampire warriors being assembled." Zephon hoped that she would see the reason behind his words but Zarina would not be budged from her position. That was the one thing Zephon admired about her above everything else: her determination.  
  
"Zephon, I am coming with you on this strike force. I have every right just to defend my home as you do and I refuse to be kept locked up here."  
  
"Damn you wench, you always have a way with words," Zephon picked Zarina up and kissed her full on the lips. "But I do want you to come with me, to ensure that you will not cause any trouble that will make me worry for you."  
  
Zarina brushed a hand through the vampire lord's hair. "And I am coming to make sure that you do nothing reckless. In a whole year of peacefulness, a side of me cannot wait to go back into the fray with you by my side as it should be."  
  
"This strike force will commence in under a week. There is much to be done in such little time. Come, we must prepare." The lord and lady of the Silent Cathedral moved down the halls to organize the troops for hopefully the final battle against the Sarafan.  
  
* **  
  
In a secluded chamber untouched by time, Kain stood, eyes locked on a screen in front of him that showed all that passed in Nosgoth. His arms were folded across his muscular chest and a blank expression on his face. "And now it has truly begun. The first pebble has been released and soon the whole mountain will tumble." His remark was prophetic, but no one save himself would have been able to decipher it.  
  
Once again the bells of war could be heard, tolling silently. 


	14. Chapter Fourteen

The Sarafan force was massive, much larger than the other one that had marched against Zephon's Clan holdings over a year ago. It was early evening as their left the relative safety of their holdings, marching quickly and with as much haste as they could towards the north. Their foot soldiers marched twenty abreast and over thirty deep, in columns made up of over a hundred eager young men. Behind them came the cavalry, who had learned from their mistakes the previous year and were now more heavily armoured than before to stand against the vampires' might. Over ten thousand rode out of the Sarafan fortress, their banners raised high and devotional hymns being sung to protect them from the creatures of the night. Then the massive catapults and cannons came after them, sorceresses channeling their magic into the technological feats in order to ensure they did not break when it came time to fight. Zephon, Turel and Rahab saw all of this from the shadows of the mountains overlooking the Sarafan fortress.  
  
"I have never seen them move out in such numbers. They must be really dedicated this time around," Rahab handed the telescope over to Turel as he stood. "But I am sure they can be easily defeated in Dumah's Territory."  
  
"And when do we begin our attack?" Zephon fixed his leg armour and gauntlets, looking at the foot soldiers with some concern.  
  
"As soon as they cross the bridge, Rahab's vampires will then dismantle it, leaving all those at the HQ stranded while we complete our work," Turel nodded to himself. "They are in place, right?" Rahab nodded. He was dressed in the same golden armour as Zephon, bearing his Clan banner with pride over his right shoulder and carrying his battleaxe over the left shoulder. "And once they have vanished over into the mountain passes, that is when we attack. My warriors will move by the main gates and strike them down with magic while you Zephon, will move in from the top of the fortress. Rahab will take the basements and we will all meet up in the center of the Sarafan HQ, utterly annihilating everyone with. Then we simply torch the place, leaving it as dust when the sun rises. And the Sarafan will no longer be a threat to our kind."  
  
The three Lieutenants turned around and headed back into the mountains where the small strike team waited. Zarina was quietly talking with the representatives from the other Clans, patching up arguments that had flared up at the last minute and giving words of comfort to some of the younger fledglings. In all, the strike force was composed of twenty members: Turel and his eight officers and highest mages, Rahab and his sub-commanders, making that twelve, then Zephon, Natarek, Siglar as well as Kilik and Daurgon from Raziel's Clan and Fecour and Mecant, picked to be the best scouts from Melchiah's personal army.   
  
And Zarina.  
  
Zephon felt a lump in his throat as he looked at his wife, who was gazing impassively at the fortress through a thin screen of leaves. She was dressed in light leather armour with arm and leg guards and armed with crossbolts besides her potent magic. He came up behind her and placed a talon on her shoulder. "Does it bring back memories?"  
  
"Always," she spoke quietly. "Both good and bad, as places are want to do for anyone. But it does not matter for I have relinquished all ties with the Sarafan; the Zephonim Clan is my home, Zephon and I will see to its safety." She turned to face him, her eyes narrowed slightly. "Do not fear for my safety, my lord. If anything, fear for yourself and the lives of your brothers. They do not know the interior like I do and can be more susceptible to attacks."  
  
"My spies and their information are always correct, Zarina. We will be coming in from over the walls, so I suggest you hand on tightly to me as we climb. Natarek and Siglar will be with Kilik, as well as Fecour, Mecant, Daurgon and us. I have personally made sure that they will be able to scale the walls with utmost haste; they are not Zephonim but then that does not matter when something like this is concerned."  
  
"You did not see the commander of the Sarafan force with his army, did you?" Zephon shook his head. "Damn it, then that means he is inside, possibly watching the battle through sorcerous means. And most likely heavily guarded. I do not doubt that Turel's magic has been able to cloak us so far, but when we are split up-"  
  
Zephon embraced her quickly to silence her. "That is why this is called a strike force, Zarina. We move in quickly, dispatch the Sarafan Lord within and anyone we come across, and as dawn breaks we leave swiftly. No casualties, no fatalities to us at all."  
  
A twig snapping behind the couple made Zephon whirl quickly, dagger in his hand. Luckily Turel was agile enough to miss the swipe that would of taken out his throat; he stepped back with his hands raised. "Zephon, already you are that tense? Perhaps you should not go. Oh, did I interrupt something?"  
  
"What does it look like?" Zephon growled, flipping the dagger in his talons and placing back in its scabbard. Zarina blushed slightly at the look Turel was given the two and went back to viewing the fortress.  
  
"I am here to say that we will move out in the few minutes. Rahab's force is already disassembling the bridge and as soon as the sun sets Zephon, that is when we begin. Remember, silence and swiftness above all else."  
  
"Do you take me to be an idiot, Turel? I can remember the plan easily enough." Turel grabbed Zephon by the arm and pulled him a small distance away from Zarina; he dropped his voice and leaned over to whisper in his younger brother's ear.  
  
"I do not take you for an idiot, I am simply just reminding you as I have reminded everyone else. Zephon, do not play the hero. We all know how many times that has gotten some of our best vampires killed. With the Sarafan Lord inside we must be united when we go up against him. Even now I sense his power and we cannot lose anyone to the team if we can help it. I also know Zarina is capable of taking care of herself, but watch out for her all the same. I would hate to see her-"  
  
"Do not speak such words Turel, do not even think such thoughts," Zephon took a menacing step towards the Clan lord. "She is my wife and I will defend her at all costs. You just remember your part of the plan."  
  
Turel nodded but the look of such seriousness had not vanished from his face. "Very well. It is time to go; the sun has left the heavens and the moon has come to replace it."  
  
***  
  
Dumah watched the Sarafan force as they made their way with an almost stately pace towards their doom. He held tightly to his broadsword and grinned slightly. "This should be a grand fight," he chuckled as he looked over at Raziel and Melchiah, standing nearby. "Just remember not to skewer yourself with your own sword, Melchiah. When the battle begins I will not be helping you."  
  
"Like we could forget that," Raziel sniffed. "We all know the plan Dumah, and we will act accordingly with it. Do not worry Melchiah you will not foul up. Your Clan's part is just as important as ours is, perhaps even more so. What is wrong, little brother? Why such a look on your face?"   
  
Melchiah stood at the very edge of Dumah's fortress, glancing out at the Sarafan and then back at the vampire forces. Or so it seemed. Raziel followed his brother's gaze, which moved over the Holy Order and off into the mountains itself. "I have a bad…feeling. Something is wrong, something that we did not plan for."  
  
"We planned for everything here in Ash Village," Dumah growled, stomping one of his cloven feet down in annoyance. "Stop being so afraid of nothing, weakling."  
  
"No, we have not forgotten anything here, Dumah. But I feel as if Rahab, Zephon and Turel are walking into a trap, one that even they cannot see until it is too late. I am worried for them."  
  
Raziel rubbed Melchiah's bald head in a friendly manner, then punched him lightly on the jaw. "Stop worrying, Melchiah. They can take care of themselves, as we all know. For the moment we need only concern ourselves with the destruction of the Sarafan. Today history shall be made!" Raziel raised his sword up into the night sky, the moon reflecting its light off the silver blade.  
  
"Here, here," Dumah raised his own blade in salute. Melchiah did the same, but only half-heartedly. Something was wrong, but what? What had they missed in the plan that was now giving him such a terrible feeling? 


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Rahab and his officers stole through the shadows just outside of the Sarafan keep, weapons ready to draw blood. Coming up to one of the main sewage lines and holding his breath as best as he could, the vampire lord and his officers made quick work of the grating and entered. Filth that Rahab did not even wish to think about flowed around his feet; thankfully he and the rest of his officers were wearing their boots but still the stink in itself was overpowering. The tunnels were as dark as the night outside but for a vampire that was no problem. Eyes narrowed from behind his visor Rahab stopped as he came to the end of the sewage line, motioning his children to keep silent and remain still. He peered out through the grating at the room in front of him; the refining chamber as Zephon had told him. The chamber was immense and nearly dark, the only light coming from torches and oil lamps set into the walls. A horrible racket was coming from one of the three generators that refined the human waste; Rahab decided that even if the plan did not call for it, he would see those massive machines destroyed and in their destruction watch more of the Sarafan fortress come down.   
  
From here the vampires could enter into the basements and begin their work. Rahab saw three guards walking along the room, completely at ease, thinking themselves safe inside their massive fortress. Fools, the Clan lord thought. Little do you know that your death is looking at you on the other side of this grating. He turned back to his children and clenched his fist, then brought it down quickly. The signal for them to strike was given and the Rahabim vampires leapt forwards from the sewage lines, battle cries ringing through the air.  
  
The Sarafan did not know what attacked them. By the time the one nearest to Rahab had managed to pull his sword, the Lieutenant had already finished cutting of his head with one powerful sweep from his battleaxe. The second Sarafan guard charged the Clan lord but a Rahabim vampire leapt at the human, bringing him to the ground and tearing out the human's throat with his fangs. The third guard, and the one closest to the door, decided that fleeing would be a good idea. Unfortunately he did not remember that during training that one should never leave their back open to the foe; he collapsed to the ground with two arrows protruding from his back, a gauntleted hand sliding away from the door's handle.  
  
"All right, let us move quickly and silently," Rahab said. He pointed to his youngest officer, Tyran. "Destroy those machines and guard the way here just in case we have to fall back. Dispose of the bodies and take care of any more Sarafan that come this way." From higher up in the fortress, a sound of an explosion came down to the basements, followed by a slight shuddering in the walls. Rahab smiled; Turel was already beginning his attack. He looked at the rest of his children. "Now the challenge begins."  
  
***  
  
"Hmm, perhaps we overdid that last spell," Turel mused to himself as he and his officers quickly crossed over from the darkness outside into the interior of the Sarafan keep, thanks to the massive hole they had created because of a lightning spell. Bodies of Sarafan littered the ground as well as body parts. Blood and intestines slicked the ground as well as dust, a disgusting combination for anyone to look at, but the vampires did not concern themselves with such things. They had seen and done far worse.  
  
"Has the Rahabim already started their approach," one of Turel's mages asked, sliding up to his father. Turel fixed his sword at his waist, ready to draw it out at any moment should there be any survivors from the explosion, and looked at his officer.  
  
"Knowing Lord Rahab he has already carried out his attack with ease. We make our way to the center chambers and we do so quickly." Turel looked at his mages who carried with them arcane staffs carved from the bones of ancient dragons now long dead. "Weapons out; prepare your most powerful spells." Swords hissed as they were pulled from their scabbards; a charged energy filled the air as magic was summoned and waited to be unleashed at a moment's notice. Turel motioned for his officers to follow closely behind him as they hurried down the long and dimly lit corridors. Their shadows stalked against the walls, sinister, twisting and frightening. Turel once remembered Zarina telling him of a human saying, that shadows were but a reflection of a person's soul deep inside; like gazing into a one-way mirror. But, the Clan Leader thought, all humans would call the deed they were about to perform sinister so the vampires' shadows aptly reflected what was in their souls. Turel shook his head.   
  
This was no time for some inner spiritual debate.  
  
It was this inner debate that nearly got Turel killed.   
  
As the vampire lord rounded a corner to his right a glaive cut the air in front of him, moving so fast the wind whistled around the deadly blade. Turel instinctively raised his own sword and blocked the attack that would have cut deep into his shoulder, at the same moment dropping down and rolling forwards. The Sarafan knight, a heavily armoured brute, backed up quickly at the unexpected move and for a few moments was left unbalanced with his cumbersome armour. In that time the youngest of Turel's officers, and an aspiring mage named Kotori, charged forwards to protect her father.  
  
The young fledgling slashed out with her sharpened claws, raking her left hand over the human's face then slashing out with her enchanted dagger. The blade bit into the Sarafan's left shoulder, between the plates, and Kotori drove her weapon into the flesh as far as it would go. The knight howled out in pain, the enchantments from the vampire's blade working their way into his flesh. Agony wracked his massive form and blood frothed from his mouth. He dropped his weapon and fell to his knees, blood streaming from his face and clouding his vision. Kotori wretched her dagger out and raised it above her head to deliver the killing blow and that was when the Sarafan knight, weakened and near death, played his last card.  
  
Raising himself painfully to his feet, the knight bowled Kotori over, and then picked the young vampire fledgling up, at the same time breaking the window beside him with a gauntleted hand. Turel and his other mages could not do anything for fear of hitting Kotori, and Turel could only cry out in anguish as the knight held the fledgling and threw him and her out the shattered window, locked in a grim parody of an embrace. The Clan Lord did not have to look out the keep's shattered window to know that his youngest mage had died. Even a Turelim vampire, for all their strength and lore, could not stop death from such a height.  
  
"My Lord," one of the elder mages spoke hesitantly, "we must keep going. Lord Zephon is counting upon us."  
  
Turel tore his gaze away from the shattered window, where a wind was coming through, creating a low howl and looked slowly at his officers. "Yes, we must continue. Kotori will not have gone to her death in vain."  
  
The Turelim vampires moved on.  
  
***  
  
Zephon dug his claws easily into the fortress walls, hauling himself up easily, full armour and all. Zarina clung onto his back, her head resting against his left shoulder, listening to the wind howl around them. Behind them came Siglar and Natarek, followed by Kilik, Mecant, Fecour and Daurgon. The walls of the fortress were hewn from rough granite and provided enough niches that Zephon did not have to overwork himself in making new ones. Moss grew in a couple of places as well as vines; these provided better support for the non-Zephonim vampires.  
  
"Lord Zephon," Fecour called out, "please slow down. The pace you're setting is too-" The young Melchiahim vampire did not finish his sentence. His left hand had dug deeply into a cleft, thinking that is was a sure support for his weight. He had been wrong; the rock crumbled quickly under his claw and unbalanced as he was, Fecour had lost his hold completely on the Sarafan fortress walls and plummeted to his death. Kilik had made a half-hearted lunge for the vampire but had missed, his claw just brushing the tips of Fecour. Fecour's screaming had filled the air, and then had been cut short, as his body had impacted on the rocky ground below.  
  
Zarina turned her face away from the scene below her and drew in shuddering breaths. Zephon looked coldly at the Melchiahim vampire's shattered corpse and then turned to his head to look at the others. "I hope you all will be more careful. Not everyone is expendable in this mission." His black hair whipped out behind him as Zephon turned his hard gaze upwards, to the top of the fortress. He could just make out the fluttering pendants of the supposedly Holy Order.  
  
"Are we almost there," Zarina whispered in his ear.  
  
"Yes," Zephon grunted as he climbed up a few more feet. "Once we get there, would you be able to cast a warding barrier of sorts to protect us?"  
  
"I will see what I can do," his wife answered, squeezing her hands reassuringly around his shoulders.   
  
"Thank the Dark Gods," Natarek huffed as he climbed alongside his sire. "The roof is right there. No more climbing." Zephon gave his sub-commander a look. "Not that I am all that tired, but all the same."  
  
Zephon's claws drove deep into the granite as he pulled himself and Zarina up and over the edge of the fortress onto the roof. Zarina climbed off of her husband, then turned around and helped the other vampires up and over. The roof itself was littered with marble and stone statues of dragons and unicorns, as well as saints whose names had been long forgotten over the course of time. Siglar hauled Kilik up beside his quickly, and in doing so unwittingly saved his own life. The crossbow bolt that had been meant for Siglar's neck instead pierced Kilik in the chest. Zarina screamed as Kilik looked down at the arrow in his chest, an expression of stupidity written across his face. He wondered dimly for a moment why he did not feel any pain; he brushed his claw across the feathered shaft of the arrow. Then two more streaked through the air, knocking the Razielim vampire back as the arrows pierced his neck.   
  
With a choked scream, vainly clutching at the arrows in his neck, Kilik toppled to the ground as the Final Death overtook him. Zephon's sword was already drawn as he looked for the threat. He did not have to search for it presented itself to the Clan Lord.  
  
"And here I was thinking that you things would never come. But it shows that once again human thinking is vastly superior to vampiric thoughts," the Sarafan commander stepped out from behind a massive statue of a dragon whose wings were unfurled and maw opened in a silent hiss. The human was dressed completely in silver armour, his face hidden by an elaborate helm. Along the shoulder plates, engraved in gold, was the symbol of the Sarafan. "Allow me to introduce myself properly. I am the Sarafan Commander Malus. You might have defeated my elder over a year ago, Lord Zephon, but you will find that I am superior to him in every way. I am your death, vampire."  
  
More Sarafan appeared from behind the other statues, crossbows and pikes raised towards the small strike team. Somehow Zephon knew Malus' words rang true. The Clan Lord raised his sword and bared his fangs. "Then let my supposed death come, but I assure you that today I will not be vanquished from this world." 


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Raziel was the first to see the approaching Sarafan army. It was the biggest push he had ever seen in his unlife, even since the first day he had laid his yellow eyes on the Holy Order. The first son of Kain twisted his clawed hand around the pommel of his sword, tense and ready to go into the battlefield and experience once again the pleasures of a sword duel.   
  
The rest of the vampires in Ash Village could now see the army, the dust being kicked up by them not hard to miss at all. The sun was sinking now beneath the horizon and night was falling. The Holy Order was chanting some psalm or another, something they felt would protect them from the creatures of the night. How little they actually knew. The vampires, even those of Clan Melchiahim, would be stronger than even the strongest warrior there. Beside Raziel, Dumah gave a deep chuckle.  
  
"They walk to their deaths unknowingly, and tonight the blood will flow freely." The third-born son slapped Melchiah on the back roughly. "Now you'll show them something, won't you?"  
  
"Yes," the youngest said, but Raziel could see the determination in his eyes. Orders were quickly given, and the vampires from Clans Razielim, Dumahim and Melchiahim poured out through the opened gates, not waiting for the enemy to come to them. Raziel was one of the first vampires to leave Ash Village behind, riding on a large black stallion that could smell the coming blood in the air and charged towards the humans without any urging. Dumah followed close behind, whipping his warriors into a frenzy. They did not care for any battle plans; they were stronger and faster and therefore did not need to plan anything when their victory was within sight. Melchiah grouped his Clan around him, and instead of rushing forwards as Raziel and Dumah were, led his vampires to flank the Sarafan from the west. If they decided to retreat, they would find themselves only trapped.  
  
"For Kain and the glory of Clan Razielim!" Raziel's battle cry went up into the night sky as he brought his blade down on the first human victim, a Sarafan standard bearer who had no hope to avoid the shining blade. His head was cleanly severed from the rest of his body and the corpse stood there for a few moments then fell down to the earth. The ordered ranks of the Sarafan began to ripple underneath the assault of the Razielim vampires, who had silently agreed to charge the Order head-on.  
  
Dumah's children attacked from the eastern side, fangs and claws flashed in the dying sunlight, and as night came upon the battlefield completely the human warriors began to have serious doubts about their Holy Crusade. One rank over ten long and fifty deep was quickly cut in half by a pack of Dumahim vampires; tridents that the vampires used skewered the mortals and blood flowed easily to the ground. Screams filled the air, more coming from the holy warriors than those of the vampires. Dumah himself rode into the thickest of fighting, his broadsword butchering any humans that believed themselves to be courageous or strong enough to stand against a Clan Lord. Blood flew through the air and before long Dumah was covered in it; none of it was his own.  
  
Raziel was galloping quickly towards a cluster of officers, stupid people who believed that by grouping themselves together they would be safer from him. Reigning in his horse a good twenty feet away from the humans, they looked at the Clan Lord and he gazed back at them. And it dawned on them, too late, the trouble that was about to befall them. Pointing his sword at the ground, Raziel brought the blade up over his head quickly and shouted a word of power into the air. The ground underneath the Sarafan officers ripped open; the horses screamed and the mortals yelled out as the very earth swallowed them whole.   
  
Nothing was left behind.  
  
Just as Melchiah predicted, some Sarafan sounded the retreat and tried to backtrack, but then found the Clan Lord and his own offspring waiting for them. The Melchiahim vampires were fearsome during the day, but their visages at night were horrible to look upon. Some Sarafan warriors fell to their knees and gibbered in fear; others broke and ran from any semblance of a well ordered line and even more desperate ones fell on their own swords, not wishing to die on the claws of the vampires in front of them.  
  
"Kill and skin them all," Melchiah said coldly. The Melchiahim line sprang forwards like a well-trained hunting dog, and like any well-trained animal, they brought down the prey easily enough. The youngest Clan Lord lopped the heads off of too many human warriors to count but did not care. Melchiah felt a laugh rise in his throat, one that carried across the battlefield.  
  
The Sarafan had been all but beaten. The vampires had won, and with them, all of Nosgoth.  
  
****  
  
Zephon was bleeding from a number of wounds inflicted upon him by Lord Malus, his breath shallow. The Clan Lord felt the sting of a wound beginning to close on his lower right leg, just below his knee, but the chest wound he had suffered, similar to the same one given to him over a year ago, bled continuously. It would not close of its own will. The Sarafan commander gave a slight smile from underneath his helm, his sword raised to a guard position in front of his chest. Malus saw his chance as Zephon blinked his eyes; the barest flicker of fatigue passed over the vampire's pale features. With a roar that echoed across the rooftop of the Sarafan headquarters, Malus charged, his blade pointed in front of him.  
  
Zephon brought up his own sword just in time, blocking the first blow but missing the second because of another wound given to him by the commander in his upper left arm. Malus' blade bit down into the unprotected flesh; Zephon hissed in pain and fell. The vampire lord tried to turn the fall into a roll but it was no use; Zephon hit the roof on his back and gasped as a bolt of pain ripped through his chest, followed by a gout of blood. His sword flew away from his hand, landing near the bloody bodies of Mecant and Daurgon. They had been killed when they had taken out three of the Sarafan commander's elite bodyguard, but the Sarafan's numbers were also low.   
  
Of Natarek, Siglar or Zarina, Zephon did not know where they were but he could hear the sound of battle further off. Perhaps they were still alive...if Zarina was dead then he might as well give up right now. Zephon couldn't imagine the rest of his life without her beside him.  
  
"I shall send you to Hell, vampire, and there you may suffer for all of your sins," Malus' blade pointed down at Zephon's throat; the sharp edge was just above his windpipe. One quick slash and it was all over. He closed his eyes and prepared for Final Death.  
  
"Zephon!!" Zarina's cry cut through the air; the Clan Lord did not dare to look in her direction but to hear her voice was more than enough. She was alive. Malus' head quickly snapped to his right where Zarina stood, a small cross bolt in her hands and pointed at the Sarafan commander. "Let him go or you will be the last one to draw breath today."  
  
The whole situation was laughable, Zephon thought with a moment of clarity. There Zarina was, covered in blood with her hair matted together by even more of the red liquid, yet the defiant look was in her eyes as she pointed a simple arrow towards someone that she perhaps once knew, who had a sword's edge pointed at her husband's throat. Malus would quickly kill him and then her; it was that simple. Pain coursed through Zephon's body and he dimly wondered that even if he survived this encounter, would he live only to be killed by his injuries? But the Sarafan commander considered Zarina to be a threat and slowly moved his sword away from Zephon's throat.  
  
With the speed borne of desperation, and coupled with his powers of a vampire, Zephon quickly rolled to his feet and raced towards his sword, screaming silently as the chest wound made itself know once again. Raising his hand towards his sword, Zephon's weapon flew towards him and he turned once more to face Lord Malus, only to find that everything had changed. In the seconds it had taken him to take back his blade, Malus had lunged towards Zarina. Knocking the cross bolt out of her hand with a swipe from his own sword, the commander grabbed the sorceress by her hair and twisted her head back, exposing her neck. His sword's edge was pressed right up against her flesh. Zephon wanted to cry out and charge but it would only get Zarina killed. Terror lit up her eyes, but she did not make a sound or even move.  
  
"It would appear I have the advantage now, Zephon." Malus looked at Zarina. "A traitor to her own kind; I curse your name and spit on you. You have no honour."  
  
"I have more honour than you do, Malus," Zarina countered as she looked down at the blade pressed to her throat. "And so do the vampires."  
  
Malus turned back to Zephon, a malicious grin spread across his face. "What would you do in a situation like this, vampire? Here I am, holding your wife's life in my hands, and there you stand, bleeding and weakened. Even if you were to do anything right now, even if you were in the best physical shape possible, you know that by the time you get here, her throat would of already been slit."  
  
Zephon took a step forwards, his sword raised. "You would not dare. Even a human would not kill another so callously." The Clan Lord fought down the fear and anxiety in his own voice; trying to banish thoughts from his mind that Zarina would soon die.  
  
Malus gave a condescending smile. "Oh, I dare many things."   
  
The Sarafan commander yanked Zarina's head back as far as it would go and in one smooth motion, slit her throat with his sword. Zarina's beautiful eyes widened for a moment, pain, terror and fear flashing across her face but unable to utter a sound. Blood flowed down the front of her armour and Malus released her from his cruel grasp. She stumbled forwards to Zephon awkwardly, hands grasping at her throat, then collapsed silently on the rooftop, blood pooling around her still form.  
  
A cry filled the air; Zephon remembered later on that it was his own. He lurched forwards, trying to catch Zarina before she fell, then dropped to his knees beside his wife's corpse. His hands were shaking as Zephon grabbed her by the shoulders and turned Zarina over. His lover's eyes stared up accusingly at him, mocking him and silently screaming at him. Zephon had done nothing to save he; he couldn't of done anything to save her. A broken howl escaped from the Clan Lord's lips and silent shudders racked his bruised body. The vampire gathered his dead wife in his arms and could only look at her with yellow eyes that seemed to be staring right past her.  
  
Zarina was dead.  
  
"And you will follow her to Hell," Malus' voice was filled with self-righteousness and gloating. "And the Holy Order will rise up and claim back what is rightfully it's own!" The Sarafan commander stopped talking as he gazed down at the vampire lord, who was looking back at him with a face that was...unreadable. And for once in his mortal life, Malus felt a twinge of fear inside of him.  
  
Zephon gently lowered Zarina's body back down on the roof, then rose to his feet. He did not feel the pain anymore running through his body. The wounds were forgotten, the blood that trickled down his pale flesh did not bother Zephon. Deep inside of him, in the Clan Lord's soul, something had been ripped away, something that would never be replaced no matter how much time elapsed. Taking off his helm, Zephon cast it aside and coldly raised his sword towards Malus.  
  
"Death," was all he said.  
  
The vampire leapt forwards, his sword striking from the left side. Lord Malus was not ready for the sudden move and could not bring his sword up in time to block the blow. Zephon's blade bit into the mortal's flesh, cutting through the skin, muscle and right down to the bone, the impact jarring Zephon's arms. The sword was lodged in Malus' gut. He gave a wail and dropped his sword, but Zephon did not stop. Releasing the pommel from his death grip, the vampire brought his talons down on the human's face, cutting right through the metal as if it did not exist at all. Grasping Malus' lower jaw in one talon, Zephon viciously yanked the bone and flesh right off as if it did not exist at all. The blood poured down quickly but Malus was not able to see it for Zephon gave a backhand swipe to the human that blinded him in both eyes; the Clan Lord tore the orbs right out of their sockets.  
  
Grabbing the hilt of his sword again Zephon extracted the sword from Malus' body, then raised it above his head and with a wordless cry filled with rage and grief, brought the bloodstained blade down on the human, cutting him cleaning from shoulder to groin. The body flopped down in two bloody pieces on the roof, which was slick with the blood of all who had fallen on this day.  
  
The moon was low in the sky, the only witness to the act of carnage that Lord Zephon had committed. Dropping his sword, Zephon stood numbly over the body of Zarina, then knelt down again beside her and gathered her cold body in his arms. With a tenderness than no one saw, he closed his beloved's eyes and pressed his forehead against her's. His own yellow eyes were closed and a single tear tracked down his bloodstained cheek, falling on Zarina's cold lips.  
  
Zephon did not hear Natarek or Siglar approach, both the worse for wear yet they would survive. They gazed in silence at the dead body of Clan Zephonim's mistress, lowering their heads as grief overtook them as well. Neither approached Zephon; they left their father alone with his own grief. The clanking of armour made Siglar turn; coming up the wide stairs to the rooftop of the fortress was Lord Turel and Lord Rahab, followed by their own vampires.  
  
Turel looked at the destruction and the bodies in silence, but it was Rahab who spoke.  
  
"My god," was all the scholar could utter. The moon passed behind a group of clouds, drawing away the light from the world.  
  
****  
  
In a small shrine in the lowest reaches of the Silent Cathedral, Zephon knelt silently in front of a stone coffin made from the purest white marble. Surrounding the coffin were white and red roses; black candles in thin and elegant holders provided light in the shrine. Carved on the front of the coffin were the words: 'Here lies Lady Zarina of Clan Zephonim, beloved wife and friend to Lord Zephon.' A small etching of a dove rested below the words. The shrine was silent; Zephon had ordered everyone else away, from his highest officers to the lowest of fledglings under pain of death. Zarina would lay here now forever, entombed in a shrine that, Zephon felt, did not do her any justice but was the most beautiful thing he had ever constructed. His clan banner was draped over his right shoulder, his hair combed back and in the vampire's hands he clasped a single rose.  
  
Zephon was dead.  
  
Zephon felt nothing.  
  
Zephon was empty.  
  
While all the other Clan celebrated their victory over the humans, who were now broken forever, he silently grieved. Nothing could pierce Zephon anymore. His heart was shredded, gone forever. No one saw him weep, but Zephon had cried so much that now there were no tears left in his body. A noise behind the Clan Lord made him rise and turn quickly, ready to kill the person who dared disturb him. He would not of cared if it was Siglar himself.  
  
Instead standing in the doorway were his brothers, their faces serious. They had, in their own ways and time, dealt with Zarina's death. And now they came to pay their respects. Zephon did not care to hear anything from any one of them.  
  
"Leave me," he snarled, a talon cutting through the air. "Leave me be."  
  
"You are not well, Zephon." Raziel moved forwards slowly. "You haven't come out in a time; your children are beginning to worry-"  
  
"Silence," Zephon cut Raziel off. "What does it matter to you? What have my children been saying to you behind my back? What does it matter to me anymore?!" Raziel tried to meet Zephon's eyes, colder than they had ever been before, then looked at the ground in silence.  
  
"Pull yourself together, Zephon. You have grieved long enough," Dumah thundered. He pushed past Raziel and towered over Zephon, trying to intimidate him by size. "It is time to come back to the real world."  
  
Zephon laughed and crushed the rose in his talon. He looked and Dumah and saw the uncertainty in his brother's eyes. "Grieve? Time? What does it matter to you? You did not know Zarina, you did not love Zarina! What right have you to tell me to stop grieving?" Zephon was now shouting in the small shrine, his voice echoing back to him. He waved an arm in front of his brothers and narrowed his eyes. "Leave me alone! Leave me alone! I am dead, dead to the world! As Zarina has died, so have I and nothing can be done about it!"  
  
"Zephon..." Melchiah began.  
  
"GET OUT!" The Clan Lord shrieked at his brothers. "Get out and leave me be! Leave me!"  
  
The five looked at their brothers; Rahab was the first to turn and leave, his head bowed. Dumah gave one last look at Zephon as if he would have been able to do something, but followed Melchiah and Raziel out. Turel tried to say something, but the look that Zephon gave him stopped any words the mage was about to say. With a rustle from his clan banner, the second eldest left. Zephon watched them leave, then turned back to look at the coffin. He gazed down at the crushed rose in his hand, then opened his palm and the petals scattered on the floor. The vampire lord collapsed on top of the coffin, crying silently.  
  
"Alone...leave me alone," he whispered brokenly. "I am dead to the world."  
  
**** 


	17. Chapter Seventeen

"Dead," Zephon moaned quietly to himself, suspended in complete solitude in his Cathedral. "I died back then, and ever since then..." The Clan Lord did not finish the rest of the sentence. He did not want to think anymore, he did not wish to dwell on such memories. Once again, the cold-hearted vampire cursed his mutated form; wishing that for a few brief moments that he could cry once again. In those far off days, Zephon had not worked off his sadness. He had become a master of building a shield around him, hiding his thoughts and emotions from all until even he could not deduce what he was truly thinking or feeling. He had become a victim of his own game. Zephon had killed Siglar in a fit of rage when the officer, talking more from pity than anything else, had suggested that perhaps Zarina could be resurrected as a vampire.  
  
Zephon would not commit such a blasphemy against his wife; he would not bring her back as a monster, which he considered himself to be deep down. There was nothing divine about him; if he couldn't save her, then why should he be called a dark god? As Zephon recalled, somewhere in his shady and half-remembered musings, Siglar had been skinned alive and only after twelve days was he allowed to die. In severe agony.  
  
A sudden sound made Zephon open his eyes and stir his monstrous form. Someone was coming up the elevator. And that someone was Raziel, his former brother from the Abyss. And there, before his very eyes, stepping off the elevator was Raziel, if changed. Now he was no longer beautiful; his once proud features had melted away, and his skin that had once carried a golden cast to it was now a deep blue; muscles and bone seemed to be the only 'skin' to speak of. Raziel's clan banner was wrapped around his face, hiding most likely a visage that was even more twisted than Zephon's.  
  
But the fifth eldest son's eyes locked immediately on the writhing, pulsing form that was attached to his former brother's right arm. He did not know what it was or what it did, but Zephon knew that in the core of his very being, that thing for lack of a better word, was his doom. In a voice laced think with arrogance and sarcasm, Zephon spoke for the first time in a long time.  
  
"Prodigal son. There is no return to the light for you, Raziel."  
  
"Zephon." A note of surprise was in Raziel's voice. "Your visage becomes you. It is an appropriate reflection of your soul." For a few moments, Zephon felt the twinges of hurt deep down, but because of his shield that he had built up over the centuries, he easily turned it aside and came back with a scathing reply of his own.  
  
"And you are not Kain's handsome Raziel anymore, his precious first-born son turned betrayer. You have missed so many changes, little Raziel. Look around you. See how the human's weapon of destruction has become my home, indeed my body. A cocoon of brick and granite from which to watch a pupating world." Zephon raised one of his many legs and gestured at the cathedral in general; the spider webs, the dust motes floating through the air and then at the expansive ceiling.  
  
"A crevice in which to cower, only to devour a victim already ensnared in your cowardly webs." Raziel pointed a claw at the drained body of a human, one of many who thought they could challenge the Lord of the Silent Cathedral and failed to do so. "But you have made the mistake of leaving me unbound, and it is you who must succumb to my will."  
  
"Will; instinct. Reflects action. The insect mind finds little difference." Zephon uncurled more of his legs from underneath his body, eyes narrowing as he looked Raziel over. He would enjoy this battle. He did not feel much in the way of emotions anymore, but he remembered hate. And he hated Raziel, the one being whom dared to believe that he could kill him. The blood began to pulse and pound through Zephon's de-evolved body; pincers at the end of his legs snapped in anticipation. "I warn you, brother, as my stature has grown, so is it matched by my appetite. Step forwards, morsel."  
  
Zephon lunged forwards, noting the surprise crossing Raziel's face. He would enjoy this battle immensely.  
  
****  
  
Darkness.   
  
Light.   
  
Darkness.   
  
Light.  
  
Things flashed before Zephon's eyes. He did not understand. One moment he was fighting Raziel, and the next...the Clan Lord looked around him quickly, gazing at his surroundings. He seemed to be suspended in the middle of inky darkness that would quickly turn into blinding light, only once again to fall back into darkness. He looked down at himself, then realized with a start that he was no longer a monster.   
  
His hideous spider form that deep down Zephon hated was now gone. Once again he displayed his talons instead of the many insect appendages that he had grown to love and hate. His malformed body was once again restored before he evolved into something far less. Zephon ran a hand through his short black hair, then glanced at his clan cape, once again displayed proudly over his right shoulder. He was back to the way he was, before he...  
  
Zephon did not want to finish the thought. Instead he spoke. "Where am I?"  
  
"That all depends," a warm voice spoke behind him. The vampire turned quickly, the voice that spoke conjuring up images in his mind. And there, standing before him, looking as radiant as she once did at the party so long ago, stood Zarina. Zephon took a few steps backwards as if he had been punched full in the stomach. He couldn't speak. He couldn't breath. There, standing right before his eyes, was his lover and wife that had died so long ago.  
  
"Zarina?" Her name came out in a whisper. Zarina nodded and smiled. She walked towards Zephon, crossing the distance between them quickly, then embraced Zephon while leaning her head against his shoulder. She felt so real; warm and solid. Zephon quickly wrapped his arms around her and for the first time, began to cry. Emotions rolled over him; disbelief followed by sadness, only to be consumed by pure joy.   
  
This was Zarina. She was here with him once again. "My love," the Clan Lord spoke in her ear. Cupping her head in his talons, Zephon looked into Zarina's eyes, then kissed her passionately on the lips. Zephon felt tears sliding down his cheeks, then realized that Zarina was crying as well. He did not want to let her go ever again; Zephon did not care if he was being melodramatic because it was the truth. "I love you, I love you," he said between kisses.  
  
Zarina only laughed as Zephon picked her up and whirled her around. Setting her back down on her feet, Zarina brushed her hands through her husband's hair and smiled. "And I love you. The wait has been long, but now we are together again, Zephon."  
  
"Where are we," he voiced the question.  
  
"It all depends. Heaven. Hell. Somewhere in between." Zarina gripped Zephon's hands and looked at him. "It all matters to you."  
  
Zephon shook his head. "I do not understand."  
  
She closed her eyes for a moment, let out a deep sigh, then looked at her husband. "Raziel killed you in the fight. You are no more in the physical realm. Now you stand in limbo between two other realms, both that you once thought to not exist but very real. In life, you committed many atrocities, ones that even I will not speak of." Zephon felt his heart, once he thought long gone, lurch suddenly in sickness. Zarina saw the doubt cloud his face and brushed a hand across his chest. "But you also redeemed yourself through love. Yes, love is enough to save anyone, Zephon."  
  
The vampire wiped the tears from his eyes and cleared his throat. "So I can go there, to the light with you? Even if my soul is black and I was once a monster?"  
  
Zarina laughed. "You are not as evil as you think. You have redeemed yourself through me, my love and that is enough." The light and darkness display ended abruptly and off in the distance a small tunnel of light glowed. Zephon looked towards it with longing. Zarina extended her hand towards her lover and her friend. "Take my hand and walk with me towards eternity, my love."  
  
Zephon clasped his talon in her soft hand, feeling the warm flesh and smiled. She was real, and so was he. Their love was real and through it, he was redeemed. The worries of the old world rolled off the vampire's shoulders and his black lips turned up into a smile. Everything was far away; pain, anger, the hurt and hatred to all that once stood before him.   
  
Zephon felt reborn.  
  
Together, Zephon and Zarina walked towards the light, towards eternity.  
  
- Fin - 


End file.
